Revenge of the Antichrist
by Saiyangirl692
Summary: Years after Satan rose in South Park, Gregory and Christophe have moved to Britain and have been training to become Mercenaries for a secret Guild. However, they are brought back to Colorado after Kyle e-mails them concerning murders that seemed to be a result of Supernatural forces. If that wasn't enough, they also must explore the worlds of romance, friendship and sexuality.
1. The European Assassins Guild

Chapter One

 _Gregory_

In training, we were always taught that the European Assassins Guild, or the EAG for short, was the finest of its kind in all the world. They had established bases all across Europe from London, to Paris, to Rome, to Vienna, and they took on missions from anywhere that they needed to. My friend Christophe and I were trained to be part of the five million members that made up the Guild when we were just nineteen years old. After returning to England after the Forgotten War, I made the decision to drop out of Oxford, where I had maintained perfect grades, to follow my dream of becoming an assassin. Christophe had the same ideas as me, for we had spent a good deal of our childhood playing games like Assassins Creed and Hitman, and so desperately wanted to be like them. Of course we thought it impossible, for afterall they were just games; a fantasy that you could only play out in a virtual life, but after the Forgotten War the thought became far less preposterous. With my intelligence and knack for forming efficient plans, and with Christophe's brute strength and apathy to harming others, we made the perfect team for such a job, and so we began to take on the odd job for a bit of extra money. It started off as petty jobs, the things the police were too busy or too lazy to deal with, but it soon escalated and, within months, we were taking down drug cartells and prostitution rings. Soon, news of what we were doing reached the Guildmasters of the EAG and they invited us to join their Guild. Naturally, we accepted and our missions became that little bit harder, but our dream just became much more alive. I couldn't think of a better way to be spending my life, to be honest.

Christophe is particularly short. I've easily got a good two feet on him (not that it makes him any less intimidating when he is angry). His face is too lined for a twenty-three year old and his hair too grey, though still mostly brown. I blame these three facts on the cancer stick currently hanging from his mouth. He has been a chronic chain-smoker since the tender age of twelve, despite my constant nagging.

"Are you going to just stand there and stare?" he asks, his voice still laced with a French accent although he hasn't been in his home country for a good ten years. "Or are you going to get in the car, and come to this fucking meeting?"

"Language, Mr Delorne." I smirk at him. "I'll be there momentarily.

"Fuck off, you British bitch." Christophe grumbles, storming towards the silver mercedes.

Our line of work pays handsomely. It would have to, or no one would risk their lives doing it.

"Thank you for using our services ma'am." I flash my best smile towards the woman we had helped on our latest mission.

It wasn't unusual for us to take jobs that weren't necessarily assassinations, if the money was being offered. We had spent the week following our client's daughter in an attempt to find out why she was acting so strange. Turns out she was hooked on meth, wooden shovelsupplied by the local dealer. We took him out, but didn't bother persuing the whole operation; we weren't getting paid for that.

I shake the woman's hand then join Christophe in the car. I sit in the passanger seat, for Christophe insists on being the driver. I prefer it that way anyway. It means I can allow myself to become lost in my own thoughts without endangering us.

The first mission we were sent on as official members of the EAG was a relatively simple one. We had to infiltrate the base of the major drug traffickers in the towns surrounding London, and London itself. They were the most powerful people in the business, and we were sent in to take the muscle down and confiscate any contraband we could find as a message to the criminals to dissist their operation. It was easy enough for us to complete it. We did it the way we had practiced, with me in charge of the planning and Christophe in charge of the beating. He went in with guns, but Christophe always preferred to get his hands a little bit dirty. His favourite weapon is a shovel, chipped and stained with blood, and though I beg him to get rid of it before it is found by officials, he never listens. What we do is generally for the greater good; taking down the criminals that the police can't find, solving the issues that the FBI don't give a shit about, but we are still breaking the law. We are still just vigilantes to them. Anyway, Christophe took down the guards while I took the drugs and we got out of there in one piece. Perhaps for any other team, the mission would be a huge challenge, but not for us. We had fought in the Forgotten War, and we had lived. Yes, I thought for sure Christophe was dead because of it, but here he is today sitting beside me in our car, perfectly fine. That was our first real mission, and Satan is tougher than any gang member or murderer the world can throw at us. I think of how we had rallied together, how we had fought united and never given up, and how we had won, and my thoughts naturally lead to that perfect kiss with my first love. She was so proud that I had led us to victory, she was so happy to be alive, and her feelings led her to grabbing me and pulling me close and sharing that kiss.

 _Wendy..._

A sharp elbow to the ribs brings me crashing to reality and she is fading like a ghost back into the back of my mind, and the warmth I was sure I had felt retreats with her. I know that after five years she is just a daydream to me, just an illusion brought on by so many years of lonliness, but it still saddens me to lose my grasp on her image. Yes, I have had Christophe as company, and I suppose I do see the guildmaster in a fatherly sort of role, but nothing compares to the feeling of a female's touch.

"Stop daydreaming." Christophe growls. "It isn't healthy for you to keep getting lost like this."

"And it isn't healthy to smoke." I grumble, unclipping my seatbelt.

He rolls his eyes.

"That's different." he says. "That doesn't mean I'm crazy."

"Nor am I." I say, getting out of the car.

He follows me with a laugh.

"Yes it does." he argues. "You need therapy, man."

"Let's just go see what our next mission is." I sigh, walking up the steps to the door to our headquarters.

A girl I have never seen before stands in the hall, and though I am hesitant to approach a stranger, a faint feeling of familiarity stirs within me.

At first glance, she reminds me of Wendy in so many ways. The way her hair cascades down her back with a gentle wave, those big brown eyes framed by long, thick eyelashes, the air of confidence that radiates from her... and that smile. Those thin, soft lips curved upwards at one side. For one fleeting moment, I think it is her, for I have not seen her in so long and she has had time to grow and change, but then she speaks and I know that it can't be.

"Hiya." she greets with a Scottish lilt. "Would you two happen to be Christophe Delorne and Gregory Johnstone?"

I can feel my chest restrict as a feeling of panic spreads through my body and lights my senses ablaze. It is instinct for us to worry when someone knows our full names. Cliche as it is, we go by either codenames or numbers to those outside the Guild for our own protection, but this girl knows who we are. If she chose to, she could tell a good number of people our location, and who we really are, and have us killed in a heartbeat. Before I can form any of this into words, Christophe begins to speak.

"Who the hell are you." he snarls, his hand hovering over his prized shovel that he keeps strapped to his back for emergencies.

I used to laugh at him for thinking he would need it at all times, but now I am glad he does.

"Relax, 630." she shows her teeth as her smile widens. "I am Agent 890, or Sheana if you'd prefer. I transferred here from the Edinburgh branch, and I am to be your new partner."

"New partner?" I smirk at her. "Sorry, but we work alone."

No matter how much the girl reminds me of my lost love, I do not look forward to changing the dynamics of my partnership with Christophe. Change is uneccessary at this point, and would just disturb the flow of things.

"Not any more." she shrugs.

"The Guildmaster said nothing about this." Christophe snarls.

Surely our boss would tell us of such extreme changes. He would at least warn us that we would come across a strange girl, and he would surely consult us to ensure that we wanted her any where near us.

"Probably because he knew you'd act like this." she shrugs. "I-"

But our argument is cut short when the Guildmaster himself walks into the room.

"She says she's to be our partner." Christophe snarls before our boss even has the chance to open his mouth.

"She is somehow convinced that you told her so." I chime in.

Perhaps five years ago when we were first inducted into the Guild we would talk in a more respectful manner to our boss, but we quickly learned that it won't win us brownie points in this organisation.

"She says right." the Guildmaster shrugs. "So you can let go of your shovel, Christophe."

The Frenchman complies, but he doesn't look happy about it.

"Why?" I ask, referring to the partnership idea.

"You two are adverse to change." the Guildmaster tells us. "We need to change that. Sheana here is as skilled as you, but with a different set of skills. I think she could come in handy, when you are faced with more challenging jobs."

"We would adapt to handle it our selves." I say confidently, and the man just smiles with mirth in his eyes.

"Perhaps you would." he says. "But it would be slower. It would be less efficient."

"and efficiency is everything." I finish for him.

It is another of the phrases that were relentlessly drummed into us when we were in training.

 _We are the best at what we do; efficiency is everything; death before failure; protect the innocent..._ The list is really never ending when I stop to think about it.

"It is settled then." he says, handing me a big yellow envelope which I know holds the information for our latest mission. "Now you can stop arguing, before I make you spend a night in the hole. And that goes for all of you."

Ah, the "Hole". A glorified cupboard that they shove us into when we refuse to follow orders, or when we mouth back to our superiors. It can sometimes be hard to believe that we are the best at what we do, when our systems are so basic, but I suppose we must be effective. People keep seeking us out, they keep hiring us, and some keep joining us.

"Let's go then." Christophe says, walking back towards the door. "This mission won't complete itself."

 **I've had this one sitting on my laptop for a good few months now. I tried to adapt it into an original work, but decided that it works best as a fanfic. I hope you enjoyed!**

 **P.S. I've written most of this already, so it shouldn't take as long to get uploaded as the others do. They just need edited now.**

 **P.P.S I don't own anything but the story-line and the character Sheana.**


	2. The Bust

Chapter 2

 _Christophe_

"Are you sure you will be able to keep up with us?" I mock with a smirk.

Sheana sits in the back seat of the mercedes, glaring daggers into the backs of our heads. I'm sure she probably can, but it doesn't make me any less pissed that we are stuck with her. It's annoying enough having to put up with Gregory and his pretencious shit, especially when he denies who he is, but now we've to put up with this little ball of fury too. Anger is supposed to be my thing anyway.

"You just haven't seen me in action." she sniffs and I repress a growl.

She has the same arrogance as Gregory at any rate.

"Are you sure? We are the worlds finest guild." Gregory chimes in.

I would be glad he was taking my side for once in his life, if he wasn't acting so strange while doing so. She does look a bit like the girl he had a little bit of the hots for back in Colorado, but that was five years ago. Surely that wouldn't make any difference to him... But Gregory is one to cling to stupid dreams like that. Its why we ended up where we are, working for the EAG and now sharing a car with a stranger.

"I doubt its the best." I hear Sheana say.

I'm paying more attention to the road, naturally, but I can still try to keep up with what has turned into petty bickering between them.

"What makes you say that?" Gregory asks, and I have a feeling that the interest in his voice is actually genuine.

"Well my first clue is that you have set up headquarters in a renovated appartment complex."

Idiot, how is that a bad thing? It makes us less conspictuous if anything. It keeps us out of the spotlight, keeps us away from the attention that could come. What the fuck did she expect, a skyscraper with "European Assassins Guild" written on a sign in blinking neon letters?

"And then your worst punishment is a day in the life of Harry before Hogwarts."

God, she's a nerd too? I'm beginning to wonder if its possible to survive being near her. I laugh at that, in a way I think is bitter, but her satisfied smile tells me that she took it as me enjoying her joke. Gregory is smiling, and I hope it is fake. Logic tells me that it probably isn't.

"So what is our mission?" she asks suddenly, and I roll my eyes.

I could faint when Gregory actually opens the envelope and checks. How could he not know it would be a drugs bust? It is the customary induction mission! And why didn't he read it before we left, so he at least knew where he was going? I begin to fear that this girl is making his mind fuzzy. He is acting too much like how he did when he used to be in the company of Wendy, and I don't like it one bit.

I park the car in a back alley a few blocks away from the building we are to infiltrate. I'm not stupid enough to take it any closer, knowing that if either the criminals we are fighting, or the feds, ever got hold of our whereabouts we'd be in huge trouble. We walk quickly the rest of the way. I pull up the hood of my comshovel jacket, the favoured one I've been wearing almost constant for the past two years, up over my head to conceal my face as we approach the building. Gregory does the same with his black jacket, and Sheana with her white parka. We scale the chainlink fence at the back of the building one at a time, with me leading, then we jog up to the door. While the fence was protected by a padlock alone, a hi-tech security system protects the actual warehouse from unwanted invasions. Sheana insists on disarming it and while I initially refuse to let her, I can't argue against her when she reminds me that it is her induction and not ours. I relent with a nod but I still glare at the back of her head as she kneels down and opens up the box. My expression does not deter her and within minutes her quick and nimble fingers have located and pulled out the wires that allow it to work. Gregory looks at her with an impressed expression, but I kick open the door expecting the alarms to sound immediately. I have to say, I am pleasantly suprised when they don't. Four guards protect the enterance, but they are easy to take down. Gregory takes down the two on the right with two quick shots, and Sheana and myself take out the other two. I am not as quick to pull a trigger as Gregory is. I blame that on the fact that I like to use my shovel more. Its more personal, and the rush is a little bit better, I think. I pull the shovel from my back. Gregory had said on the way over that there were three rooms in the building, and he guessed that there would be guards and a small stash of drugs in all of them. A perfect number, since we could all take a room each. I nod to Gregory, then take off running towards the door to the right. I hear gunshots ring as I enter the room and know that Sheana and Gregory have already started to fight. I have to take it slower, to avoid getting shot. I prefer to tackle it with stealth. They have left the door open a crack, and I can see inside. One man heads towards the door, probably going to investigate the loud gunshots that crack through the silence. I duck down behind a crate and wait for him to leave the view of the door, then I spring into action. I grab him from behind and press my shovel against his throat. He chokes and splutters before going limp in my arms and I drop him to the ground. There are only two men left in the room, and I think this is too easy for a man of my skill. I take out my pistol for efficiency and put a bullet in the head of the first man I encounter when I enter the room. I throw the shovel at the other and he falls back against a table, dazed. I cross over to him, lift my shovel and end his life with a solid blow to the head with my shovel and a spurt of blood. Satisfied with my work, I kick open the crate they had been protecting and stuff the drugs into my rucksack. We'll have to show the stash to the Guildmaster to prove that we have actually done our job, and then he will dispose of it when we are on a mandatory mission. I'm glad that our work is mainly freelance. I zip my rucksack up then leave the room. I meet Gregory and Sheana at the door. They are covered in blood that is not their own, but their grins tell me that they have managed to confiscate all the contraband in their respective rooms. We leave the building, leaving the bodies and blood for someone else to clean up, and head back to the car. The mission was completed quickly; efficiently.

"So did I prove myself?" Sheana asks smugly as soon as I begin to drive.

"You weren't bad." Gregory shrugs. "But you could have done better."

I can sense the insincerity in his voice. When you have allowed yourself to become a brother to a man, it becomes easy to read them. He thinks she did brilliantly, but he will never admit it. I suppose I don't blame him for not voicing it though, any praise can easily inflate an amatuers head. We can't have her judgement clouded by arrogance, or she could lead us right down shit creek.

"A lot better." I agree, but unlike Gregory I actually mean it.

It wasn't a particularly hard system to disable, and it could have been luck anyway, and any person who could even think to call themselves an assassin could easily gun down a few low level drug dealers. Her work today proved nothing but the fact that she could at least be trusted, and she could work without letting her emotions best her. It is a trait that few people had to be able to handle the weight of murder. Afterall, that's what this is. We can mask it as any hero bullshit you can think of, but at the end of the day we are killing people and passing judgement on those no different from ourselves. But I suppose we aren't that evil, for God in heaven does the exact same, just in more subtle ways. Even Gregory at times seems to struggle with the guilt of killing, but Sheana doesn't seem to be like that. That's the one good thing I can see about her. I ignore her when her face falls, and when she growls under her breath about how we haven't seen the best of her yet.

"And what would your best skills be?" Gregory asks.

"Engineering. Bombs. Hacking." she shrugs. "A lot more than you know."

I'm not convinced.

 **Starting with two chapters?! I really must be getting better at this.**

 **Leave a review to let me know how I'm doing?**


	3. Let me fall

Chapter 3

 _Gregory_

"So what're you thinking?" Christophe asks, taking a long puff of his cigarette.

I know what he means. He wonders if I was impressed with Sheana today (which I was). He wonders if I want to spend more time with her (which I do, despite the undeniable selfishness in only wanting her for the memory of Wendy). I know he disagrees with me though, so I opt to act stupid.

"About what?" I ask, rubbing my hands together to fend off the numbness caused by the cold.

"Shaena." he says. "Do you think she is worth keeping."

"Do you?"

"Non."

 _Crap._ It's going to be harder than I hoped to convince him otherwise.

"I think we should." I say, trying to sound apathetic. "I mean, we could use a bit of extra muscle."

"She's not too strong." he replies. "We can find better if you want to."

"But we've already proved we can work well with her, it would make sense." I argue. "Besides, we could really use a hacker. It's a pain in the ass to contact Kyle everytime we need some info."

Kyle had maintained contact with Christophe after we left Colorado. He reasoned that there is a certain bond created between two people, after one died in the others arms. Its hard to argue with that logic. Kyle grew up to be a tech geek, and when Christophe learned about his skill for hacking he recruited him to help us. Only problem is, Kyle still lives at home with his mother in Colorado, and we roadtrip across England. The distance can be very troublesome for communication.

I glare at Christophe until he decides to finally respond.

"Fine we can keep her." he shrugs, throwing down his cigarette and stomping it out. "But don't think I don't know why you _really_ want to."

He can't read me that easily, can he?

"What do you mean? I just told you why." I say.

"You want to keep her around because you are a selfish bastard." he says.

Fuck, he does know me that well.

"You are reminded of that girl you had a crush on in Colorado so you want to keep her around for the cheap thrill of noslagia."

And fuck when did he learn to talk like that? I must be rubbing off on him.

"B-bullshit!" I try to argue, but I can feel the blush burn across my cheeks. Maybe he'll think its from the cold?

"Whatever." he shrugs. "But try to remember how well I know you, _mon frere_."

"Shut up, Christophe." I growl.

He smirks knowingly, winks, then almost runs into the building before I can catch him to hit him. He turns at the door.

"I'm going to go talk to the Guildmaster and tell him our decision." he says. "You find Shaena and see if she wants to come back to the apartment."

"Where will she sleep?"

"In your room." he smirks.

"And where will I sleep?"

"The couch?"

Of course.

"Twat." I mutter under my breath, then go inside to search of our new partner. When did I decide this change could possibly be a good idea?

I find her in the library, reading The History of Love. And once more I am given a painful reminder of what it was like to be with Wendy, for it was one of her favourite books. I think the main reason why I liked Wendy was the connection I felt with her through our shared interests. We were alike in so many ways. We were overacheivers with perfect grades, we were activists fighting for equal rights for all whether through going to rallies together or writing essays on our subjects and publishing them on the web. We were well-read, educated people who could be called pretentious, even arrogant, because of how driven we were. But Wendy is not who I have to worry about right now; Sheana is.

"If it weren't for her, there would never have been an empty space, or the need to fill it." I quote from the book. I don't know how to get her attention any other way, because, for a rare time, my mind has drawn a blank.

She looks up from the book, her finger marking the sentance she had just finished reading, and glares at me.

"Any plans to woo me are futile after the way you treated me today." she says simply, then looks back down. I can tell she isn't reading.

What does she mean? Is this because I didn't tell her she was good earlier? I was blunt with her if anything, but I didn't think I was particularly horrible to her. Besides, she had to get used to a bit of critisism if she wanted to survive in the Guild.

"I did nothing wrong." I argue.

She sighs and stares determinedly at the book for a few more seconds then she looks up.

"Nor did I." she replies. "But I still get the feeling that you don't like me, and I'd like to know why."

Was I really so mean, to make a girl so beautiful so sad? I thought I was being honest. I thought honesty was a good thing.

"You are over reacting." I accuse, before I can stop the words from falling from my mouth.

She growls and glares back down at the book. I feel sorry for the poor page.

"I have been insulted enough today." she says without looking at me. "So if you plan to carry on, I'm not interested. Leave."

"I don't plan to insult you." I say, forgetting for a moment why I did seek her out.

"Then you'd better tell me what the fuck you want." she says, all hints of formality disappearing from her voice at once.

"I was going to ask if you wanted to be part of mine and Christophe's team." I say.

Her laugh is biting.

"I thought I wasn't good enough for you." she says.

"I wasn't completely truthful." I admit with a sigh. "You are half-decent, and with the right training you can be one of the best. We can provide that training."

"I'll give it a try." she says after a long pause.

"And you'd live in our apartment with us? We can find you a bed."

"I thought every one lived here." she says, confused.

"Only for the first couple of years at most." I say. "Did you really think it was wise to keep all of England's mercenaries in the one place?"

"No, I suppose not." she says.

"Hurry up." Christophe says from the door and we both jump with fright. "I don't want to wait all night to get home."


	4. Who Am I?

Chapter 4

 _Sheana_

"Are you sure you don't mind?" I ask for what must be the fifth time in the last half an hour.

I can see Gregory is beginning to get frustrated with me, but I need to make sure he will be alright. When he said he could find me a bed in his and Christophe's apartment, I didn't realise that it would mean kicking him out of his own. Although I don't particularly like him after the way he treated me today, I still feel bad. I don't know why I am so angry at him, because maybe he doesn't think I'm good, but I just don't take well to criticism. After spending my years at school being told by students and teachers alike that I would never amount to anything well... I just want to prove myself to the world. And Gregory and Christophe do not believe I have proved myself... Perhaps I am more angry at myself.

"I'll be fine." Gregory smiles, and I know he is being sincere. "and besides, what kind of gentleman will I be if I let a lady sleep on the couch?"

No less of one than you were when you refused to acknowledge my skills, disturbing me from reading to insult me some more and dismissing the things you have not seen. I don't voice any of this, instead opting to fix him with a grin. He looks dazed. Good, let him see how awesome I really am.

"I was just making sure." I tell him.

"I'll be fine." he insists, with a small smile, and he does look a little bit cute. "And if I want a bed, I'll kick Christophe out of his."

I laugh at the thought of the Frenchman chasing Gregory down the hall with his shovel. The man is intimidating at the best of times, much less when awoken in the middle of the night I'd imagine. Gregory looks at me with a wierd light in his eyes, and I consider the thought that he could like me in a romantic way. He did quote a romantic line from the book, although that could be because he couldn't think of any others, and it was strange of him not to force me to sleep on the couch.

"Or you can sleep with me." I say to test the theory and then I quickly shut the door before he catches my blush. I manage to get a glimpse at his red face though, and I think that perhaps my theory was right.

I think about the blonde as I enter his shovelhroom, which is en-suite to the bedroom he has given up to me, and turn on the shower. He is cute, there is no denying, with those golden curls and dark blue eyes. He almost reminds me of how I imagined Prince Charming while reading Cinderella. Yes, he is as handsome as they come, but what about his personality?

I step into the shower and begin to lather shampoo into my long hair. He has a few products in his shower from shampoos to conditioners to soaps and I wonder if he shares his room with ladies frequently, but then I come to the conclusion that he's probably just a hygiene nut. He seems to be that kind of guy.

He's a pretentious bastard, I can tell that from a mile away. The way he holds himself with esteemed confidence, always wearing freshly pressed shirts when t shirts would make more sense in terms of practicallity in his line of work. His bookshelf is chalk full of classical and intriquite books he probably does not know the meaning of, and his Oxford _post-graduate_ certificate is framed and on his desk I noticed on my way to the shovelhroom. _And_ he treats everyone as if they are stupid. I am honestly suprised Christophe hasn't killed him yet. I step out of the shower and dry myself off before pulling on my silky blue pyjamas. They are my favourite ones, and I'm sure they feel as though I am lying on clouds. My hair is still wet but I can't really be bothered to dry it, so I decide to let it drip naturally. It is only nine oclock and I don't feel tired in the slightest. Christophe and Gregory must have gotten up early this morning to be so tired already. I feel bad about it, but I still decide to have a look around Gregory's room to see if I can find out more about his character. I ease my worry by deciding that he would do the same if left alone in my room, though I don't know if that would be completely true. I open the top drawer on his desk and lift the photo album that lies on the top. It is a red leather book which he has written "Colorado Trip" on in cursive lettering. I cross the room to sit on the bed and open it. I don't see any harm in looking through some old pictures. The first page is filled with photos of him and Christophe. They look younger, but not much different than how they are now. In the first, Christophe scowls at Gregory's arm around him, a cigarette in his mouth. In the second they are both smiling and it looks like they are in a pub. Pints of lager sit in front of them. I flick through a few more pages and see others that I have not met. They must be people they met in Colorado. There is a picture of Christophe with his arms around a ginger boy with wiry spectacles perched on his nose. Gregory's writing beneath it tells me that his name is Kyle. In another a dark haired boy kisses a blonde boy on the cheek. I read that their names are Token and Butters. I think they must have been dating at the time. Perhaps they still are. I see pictures of a dark skinned, brown haired boy called Kenny, and more of Gregory and Christophe and Token and Butters and Kyle, and then I turn to the last page and freeze. It is a picture of a girl, who I read is called Wendy, she is laughing in the picture. It could almost be a picture of me in my youth, we are so alike. She has long black hair the same as me, she laughs in the same way, she wears the same style of clothes. She has darker eyes, and lighter skin, but she could be a long lost sister of mine. I suddenly feel sick. Could Gregory be blushing and staring at me because I remind him of her? The love hearts he has drawn around her name suggests that she could have been an old flame of his, but would he really project her image onto me. Any ideas of Prince Charming disappear from my mind as I slam the book closed. I put it back in the drawer and begin to search through the rest of his desk, hoping to find something to distract me from the picture. The rest of the desk holds nothing of significance, just a solved rubix cube with peeling stickers, a couple of sets of headphones tangled together, an old comb that is missing a few teeth, a folder filled with notes on what must have been his Oxford coursework, a tub of hair gel, a slightly dented rolex watch, a few broken pencils... But even with every item I see that picture haunts my mind. I don't know why I care so much about any part of Gregory's love life but for some reason my heart feels like it could explode and my brain feels fuzzy and my eyes burn with the tears that fill them. I shake my head and blink a few times in an attempt to calm myself then flop down onto the bed and bury my head in the pillow. I fall asleep quickly although my hair is still damp and I am above the covers, but my sleep is restless for a long while before it calms.

I wake up again when I hear Christophe and Gregory's voices from next door in the guest shovelhroom.

"Are you jerking off in there or have you just drowned?!" I hear Christophe yell, desperation in his voice.

I guess that he really needs to use the shovelhroom.

"Fuck off!" Gregory's voice replies. "I'll be out in a minute!"

How do they have the energy to bicker at this time in the morning? I'm not usually _awake_ for another couple of hours.

"Hey! Apologise for being mean!" Christophe yells back.

He must be a little tired, if he hasn't just given up and kicked the door down by now.

"I will not." Gregory retorts.

I stand up and locate my clothes from my suitcase, then I start to dress while still listening to my new housemates.

"Then I won't make you breakfast like I planned to!" Christophe yells.

I wouldn't have taken him for a cook, but I still barely know these people. I wonder if it was a foolish idea to move in with them so soon, but then I realise that I'd have to do the same if I had went to university rather than into a life of vigilantism.

"I'm sorry." Gregory relents.

I hear the door open, then a body hit the wall, and then it slams closed. I assume Christophe bodily threw him out the room. I start to pull my brush through my hair, already dressed in a pair of jeans and a purple t shirt.

"Hurry up, I want breakfast." Gregory says.

"Yeah I'm just taking a piss!" Christophe replies as I leave my room and bump straight into Gregory.

His blonde hair is glistening with water and he grins at me showing perfectly white teeth. He is almost handsome.

"What time is it?" I say, then I yawn.

"Six thirty." he tells me after a glance at his watch.

I thought it was at least half seven.

"S'that it?" I try to ask in shock, but my tone is ruined when another yawn forces its way out. He laughs at me and I am too tired to fix him with a glare for it.

"You have to get used to early mornings if you want to work with us." he teases. "Come on, Christophe's going to make us French toast."

"Cliche." I smirk as I follow him towards the kitchen.


	5. The Kiss

Chapter 5

 _Gregory_

"Come on, I've not blown anything up in ageeees." Sheana whines and I suppress a growl.

We've been having this argument for more than an hour. We learned that the drugs bust we did for her induction was a fake, and the real operation had moved in when they thought we were done with the place. I said we should just do the same as last time, with stronger guns. Christophe let slip that they would probably regroup again and enter the building again and we'd spend months playing cat and mouse with them, which birthed Shaena's idea to blow them and the building to smithereens to stop it happening again.

"And you won't for even longer if you plan to keep working with us." I say, adamant that I won't lose this argument.

"Why not?" she asks. "It's efficient!"

"And it is also borderline terrorism!" I argue. "We could hurt other people in the process, we could get caught and go to jail for a very long time, we could-"

"But Gregoooryyyy." she cuts across me with a high pitched whine. "We'll be carefuuulll."

Christophe has been listening into our conversation without adding his own thoughts and only wincing when Shaena's voice raises a decibel.

"Just let her do her fucking thing." he finally growls and I am shocked.

Christophe rarely ever disagrees with me when I come up with a plan, as long as he gets to dig and give beat-downs to a few people.

"The street will be practically empty when we attack at night, we'll cover our tracks well like we do on every other fucking mission and we will cut back on a lot of work." he explains. "Plus, I'm thinking of blowing _this_ building up if I have to hear her fucking voice one more time."

I sigh in defeat. They have me outnumbered two to one.

"Fine." I growl. "Fine, but I'm not taking the blame if we fuck up."

"YAY!" Sheana cheers.

I'm beginning to think I have teamed with someone more insane than Christophe, and for a long time I have thought that would be impossible.

"Where the fuck did you learn to build bombs anyway?" I ask.

"It's a secret." she smiles, pressing a finger to her nose.

I fear we are working with an ex-member of Al Queda.

I hold my gun tight and make sure the safety catch is off. Shaena has once again disarmed the security system. She did it within seconds, having done it once before. Stupid of them, really, to stick with the same system. I take a deep breath and kick down the door. I run into the room and immediately hit the guard at the door with a bullet. The bang will have guards rushing from all over the building to find us. The plan was simple enough. I would kill guards, thus creating a distraction while Christophe burrowed through the house with his shovel to confiscate the drugs as proof that we had actually completed the mission and not just blown it up from the outside and risked some escapes. Shaena would find vantage points to set up the explosives she had spent the night before making and time them to give us twelve minutes in the building to kill as many of the criminals as we could and get all of the drugs. It was plenty of time, we had completed missions in shorter time periods. It was all going so well, and then it turns. I am smothered by guards. There are a lot more than I estimated there would be, and gunshots in the distance tell me that I am not facing either of them. Either Christophe has to fight to take the drugs, or Shaena has to fight to set up the explosives. And I don't know which is worse. There is a bullet in my arm, but I can't feel any pain from it past the adrenaline running through my veins. It seems like twelve minutes have almost passed, and I am no longer near the exit. I don't know where Christophe is, and Shaena hasn't returned. Panic is building to join the adrenaline. Then Shaena is grabbing my arm and her eyes are wide with urgency.

"We have ten seconds to get out." she breathes, and my heart almost stops.

We run for the exit as fast as we can and I keep telling myself over and over that Christophe will be fine and that he has probably already dug his way out and is already sitting in the car grumbling about how long it is taking us. Logic tells me that it is almost impossible, but I am ignoring it. It is surprisingly easy to do when in a blind panic. An explosion sounds behind us and I am almost deafened. They have started to detonate; the building will be dust within seconds. We make it to the door and leap forward. I have never flew so high or so far in all my life. The building explodes completely behind us and we are thrown forward slightly by the power behind it. The impact burns my back and my fall almost cracks my knees. I turn to Shaena and while she is panting heavily and the ends of her hairs are singed, she is still as alive as I am and her breath coming in pants tells me that. I stand up and help her to her feet. I pull her close just to feel her heart pounding against my chest and know for real she's alive.

And despite all of Christophe's warnings, and despite the pledge I made five years ago to only ever love Wendy, and despite my own logic screaming at me, I press my lips against hers.

She stands rigid against me and doesn't touch back or react. I pull away, hoping to save us both from the awkwardness which would surely come from this. Her eyes are wide and her mouth hangs open in shock. I am left speechless and I almost expect her to strike me, but then she steps forward and presses her lips back against mine. For a fleeting moment it is slow and experimental, then we are kissing like we won't see tomorrow.

It is far from romantic.

It is messy, born from adrenaline and the feeling of being alive. It speaks of desperation and fear and lust and living and the possibility of love all at once. Our tongues entwine together and I stroke her hair and she caresses my back. Our feet move without us realizing and I soon have her pressed against a wall I never knew was there. Her knee comes up and puts sweet pressure on my crotch and my hand moves to cup her breast, and we only stop kissing for a breath of fresh air. The wall and the street and the rubble and ash that we left behind dissolve into nothingness and here is only her and me and this wondering, enthralling, exciting feeling that is shared between us.

The sound of someone clearing their throat brings us both crashing to reality. We leap apart as if we suddenly transformed into fire and ice respectively. She blushes red and I glare at the sight of Christophe.

"Puis-je joindre a?" he smirks.

I know enough French to know it means "Can I join in?"

I flip him off and storm towards the car.

"We better leave before the cops show up." I say.

Christophe follows snickering then Sheana hurries into the back seat.

I don't know what this will mean for my relationship with Shaena, if you can even call it that. She might want to make it serious, which I would enjoy immensely, or she may blame adrenaline and instinct, which I couldn't blame her for. I suppose I'll have to talk to her later, when we can get some privacy, to find out.


	6. The Aftermath

Chapter 6

 _Sheana_

I can't believe I kissed him. I have known him, and hated him, for a day and a half. And then I kissed him. And I let him touch me in places where I've never let any man touch me. I know he only wants me because I vaguely look like a girl he knew years ago, and I still made out with him. I have never been more disappointed in myself in my life. You can cut the tension in his room like a knife, the awkwardness is so intense. He knocked on my door a good fifteen minutes ago asking to talk to me, and he hasn't been able to utter a single word in his defense. Maybe I enjoyed that kiss earlier... He was a good kisser... But it is the person who I let kiss me that's annoying me. My first ever kiss with him?! I grab the pillow from the bed and hug it to my chest. He sits on the bottom of the bed. Another minute passes, and then he finally clears his throat.

"About that... kiss earlier." he says uncertainly. "I am sorry. That could have been a mistake on my part."

Maybe he initiated it, but I made the decision to invite him in deeper. Not that I'm going to tell him that.

"It's okay." I shrug, even though it really isn't in my head.

It's not his fault, I tell myself. He can't control how I'm going to react to things.

"I shouldn't have kissed back. I guess I was just happy you were okay." I say.

Damn. I did tell him that. I hate the way my mouth reacts sometimes.

"Yeah. Adrenaline can make you do stupid stuff." he agrees, staring at the carpet.

We both ignore the fact that neither of us made out with Christophe after discovering he was okay.

"I..." he begins, and I look at him expectantly. "I'd be lying if I said I didn't enjoy it."

My brain freezes for a moment, and then I gain control. At least I'm not the only one that felt true passion underneath all the messy adrenaline.

"Me too." I smile before I can stop myself.

I'm kind of glad I didn't.

He looks up at me with hope in his eyes.

"Does that mean I can do it again?" he asks, his tone half-flirty.

I feel the blush rise on my cheeks and I laugh nervously. Yeah, I enjoyed it and yeah I'm sure it would be pleasurable to do again but that doesn't change who he is or how long we've known each other. But I can't bare to let him give up all hope.

"Maybe one day." I tell him. "But it's only been a day and a half."

"Two days." he argues and I roll my eyes.

"That's still not enough time." I say. "And besides, I'm still pissed off at you."

"Why?" he asks, feigning dramatics with a hand on his chest.

I snicker at his actions, but still answer him truthfully.

"You won't admit I'm a good at my job." I smirk at him..

"I said you were decent." He argues.

That's not good enough, even if he is Prince Charming. I throw my pillow at him with the intent of smacking him in the face, but he is too quick. He catches it.

"I won't settle for anything less than brilliant." I stick out my tongue.

"Then you'll be waiting a very long time to hear that." he laughs.

"And you'll be waiting a very long time for a date." I tell him honestly.

He would be anyway, but we won't mention that.

"For you I will wait an eternity." he says.

Another blush burns across my cheeks. I can't believe he of all people would say something so embarrassingly cliche. I decide to change the subject.

"And you're sure you'll be alright on the couch?"

"Positive." he nods. "And that's where I better go, before Christophe jumps to conclusions."

I can tell he doesn't want to leave and, honestly, I don't want him to go. But there's nothing I can do.

I don't snoop around Gregory's room tonight. I saw enough the last night to deter me from doing it ever again. Instead I lay in his bed and stare up at the ceiling. His pillow and sheets reek like him; peppermint from his toothpaste infused by the strong scent of his cologne. It isn't a bad smell, but it still hurts because it makes me think about him. I suppose I should be happy that he, a handsome and generally good person, would think about kissing me but I still know deep down that its not really me that he likes. I wish I hadn't found that stupid photo, then I could allow myself to fall under the illusion that someone could actually like me and be happy and learn to love Gregory and I could have the happy ending that every little girl dreamed of but my curiosity got the best of me, like it did so many times in the past, and it ruined it all. They say its good to be curious, but I don't know how they can say that. I was curious to how cider tasted when I was back in Scotland and fourteen years old. I tasted it and it made me sick. I heaved up all the purple shit and then punched a guy in the face for a reason I can't even remember. I was curious to what it would be like to just hit people when they annoyed you, and it gave me the reputation of the "baddest bitch" in my home town. I was curious about the taste of weed and I almost bankrupted myself before I even reached the age of eighteen. And that kind of life is the worst kind. I never wanted to be bad. When I was a kid I wanted to be a lawyer. I wanted to go to Harvard. I wanted to make some big difference to the world. And then I got curious and fucked it all up. I was curious about what lay in Gregory's drawers, and I cracked my own heart. I was curious about what it would be like to kiss him, and I fucking shattered it. Curiosity, to me, is an evil thing. A thing that should remain untouched. Because it will hurt you rather than heal you... It will burn you and it will make you hurt... It's just not worth the pain. What is that saying? Curiosity killed the cat? That's what is true. I find it difficult to sleep and when I do finally fall, my dreams are haunted by images of my past and Gregory and the girl in that old picture.


	7. Back to the Root

Chapter 7

 _Christophe_

"There are not much jobs over here for you guys now." the Guild master tells us. "They are either fitted to amateurs, or masters, and you three fit somewhere in between."

"So, you couldn't find us _anything_?" Gregory asks, sounding as exasperated as I feel.

"Nothing." he says. "You can always take a gap year."

A year without work? I'm not sure if we could afford that. The rent on our apartment is expensive, being in London, we have to feed the three of us, clothe us. And I am not giving up my Mercedes. That car is the closest thing to love I think I can feel. I remember the e-mail that Kyle sent me a couple of nights ago, asking for help. He said weird things had started happening again and, while he usually managed to resolve the problems in his town along with his friends, he wasn't sure if he could do it this time. I didn't want to go back to Colorado, remembering what had happened last time. I do not remember my death, of course, but I remember those dogs chasing me... the burning pain as their teeth and claws found my flesh... the tears in Kyle's eyes as he held me in his lap... But without work, it may be worth the risk.

"We could go back to Colorado." I say, after coming to that conclusion.

"Yes." Gregory agrees with a grateful smile. "As I recall, they had a lack of mercenaries over there."

That's why a bunch of teenagers had to try to purge the town of evil last time. The officials didn't believe us, and I can't really blame them.

"It just so happens that Kyle contacted me last night." I say as an explanation. It was actually about a week ago, but Gregory doesn't need to know that. "There is a lot of crime going on, a lot of... strange things."

Colorado is beginning to sound like a better idea as I think more of the friends that we left behind there. I miss Kyle a lot, and if not for Gregory I think I would call him my best friend. I miss them all to be honest... I just don't look forward to meeting my mother again... Or Kyle's. Gregory's excitement fades too, and I think perhaps he has been thinking the same, until he glances with uncertainty towards Sheana. Of course. He's not the kind to kiss and leave.

"Do you want to?" he asks her.

She nods.

"I'll go where we can get work." She grins. "I haven't been in this business long enough to retire."

For once, Gregory has left me in charge of planning. It's only the journey, but I was still shocked when he told me I could make the calls and book the tickets... Maybe the pretentious bastard is actually beginning to trust me. Or maybe he's still trying to get close to Sheana. Our flight is set to leave at eight thirty tomorrow morning, and it will get us in Denver by six pm. The town, South Park, is just over an hour's drive north of Denver. I e-mailed Kyle, and the amazing bastard has managed to arrange to have us a Mercedes waiting for us at the airport. I decide to get an early bed, because I know tomorrow will be stressful. I am meeting my mother again, for the first time in five years. She left my father to go live in South Park when I was a young boy, and it was her Gregory and I stayed with when we visited the first time together. I had been to the town many times on visits to my mother, and those visits were not pleasant. She is the type of person to go by the spare the rod kind of ideal. It was this that made me despise God. How could he encourage people to hurt children, how _dare_ he? He already brings enough suffering to the world with his diseases and famines and natural disasters, without encouraging his followers to bring more. But of course this hatred just made my relationship with my God-fearing mother worse. I learned quickly that badmouthing Him aloud would only result in black eyes and scars and so I stopped, but I always knew it deep down. Kyle knows how she treated me, for I found myself opening up to him on more than one occasion when I was in the town last. Gregory doesn't, I couldn't let myself hurt him by letting him know. Kyle did offer to let us stay at his house, but he is still living with his mother. Sheila Broflovski, the bitch that started the war... the bitch that caused my death. I would spend an eternity fighting with my mother before I spent even a minute in the house of _her_. I roll out of my bed and lie beneath it, where I feel safe. I should learn by now to stop thinking about my past. It only fills my heart with worry and anger, and makes my mind rush into an overdrive of paranoia.

The journey to South Park is uneventful and goes off without a hitch. Even the plane was only half an hour late. The snow is heavy when we get to South Park, although it was a warm, sunny day back at Denver only a few miles away. No wonder the people who inhabit the town insist that it is cursed. I'm surprised my mother has been able to live here as long, without going crazy. I drive slowly, half due to the ice and half due to the children that play on the street. Its weird to think that these kids could possibly belong to the people we used to be friends with. I wouldn't be surprised if Kenny had a baby or two in the town. He was quite acquainted with the ladies when I met him last. It's weird being back here, I just can't explain why. I wonder if Gregory feels the same.

"Does it feel weird to be back?" I ask him, and he turns to me with wide eyes.

"Of course if does." he shrugs. "Especially when it looks like nothing has changed, but I know everything has."

God he always has to act so profound.

"Stop being a drama queen." I smirk and Shaena snickers. "I'm sure everyone will be the way you remember them."

"And what about you?" he asks. It takes me a minute to realize what he means.

"Well I thought they were all bitches." I laugh, pulling into my mother's driveway. "You didn't."

With my friends beside me I almost don't feel the panic that grips me knowing that I'll soon be in the company of the woman who haunts my dreams more often than not again.

Gregory laughs as he gets out of the car and I can't help but to smile along with him. He has really grown on me over the years. He's been like a brother to me while we have been working together, so I suppose it is only natural.

"Come on, let's go." he says. "I need a sleep."

"And a shower." Shaena smirks and he rolls his eyes.

I suppose I could get used to Sheana too. She isn't as whiny as I initially thought she would be. But now the panic is setting in because I am two steps from the door, and Gregory is about to open it.

"Come on then." I say, and I am glad that my voice does not waver. "Let's go see _maman_."

 **So we're finally in South Park! The main boys will be introduced within the next couple of chapters :)**


	8. Godless

Chapter 8

 _Christophe_

It seems like my mother has went full on batshit crazy in my absence. Just one step inside the house is enough to make me feel sick to my stomach. The beatings and groundings for badmouthing God seemed bad enough, but now I fear that her fixation has evolved into obsession. Cruxifixes cover almost every inch of the walls, there are more pictures of Jesus on her tables and walls that there are of our family. There is a bible and a bottle of holy water stationed in both the hallway, and the living room that I lead my friends into, and I have a feeling that it will be the same in every room. Every insult towards God and the insanity that my mother has fallen into whirl around my head, but I bite back them all. It would do us no good to get kicked out of her house within the first five minutes. It would be almost impossible to find somewhere else to sleep by now, and I still completely reject the idea of going anywhere _near Sheila_.

"You have redecorated." I say, trying to keep the smirk from reaching my voice.

We could talk in French, but that would be rude to Gregory and Sheana. I know for a fact Gregory can talk a bit, being an ex-oxford student and all, but he is not fluent. I doubt Sheana knows a word of the language. She doesn't seem to be the educated type. Still, my accent thickens when I am with my mother.

"I had to." my mother replies without looking at me. Her cold blue eyes are fixed on the picture of Jesus above the fireplace. Her tan hands tremble around the mug she clutches tightly on her lap. "You would too if you knew what goes on in this town."

I notice the heavy bags under her red-rimmed eyes, and she is a lot skinnier than I remember. I wonder if she has been sleeping, and what would be causing her not to. We are alike in many ways. If her eyes were green, and if her face was rounder, we'd look like gender-swapped clones.

"What do you mean?" I ask her, genuinely concerned.

I may not have the strongest relationship with her, but she is still, at the end of the day, the one who gave birth to me. I want to be able to protect her.

She doesn't answer me. Her eyes flicker towards me for a fraction of a second and then she stares back up at the picture. Her hand shakes more, and her tea threatens to spill.

"Please maman." I try again in the most gentle voice I can. "You can tell us. We can help."

She is silent for a long moment and then her bottom lip trembles and her eyes flash with anger.

"This is a Godless town!" she erupts.

On the couch, Sheana's body goes rigid and Gregory's eyes grow wide. They have realised, along with me, that my mother really has been lost to insanity in my absense.

"Calm down." I tell her in a calm voice, although a million emotions are washing through me on the inside. "You sound crazy."

I might as well be honest with her now.

"Crazy?!" she shrieks. "I will not be so crazy when the anti-christ rises. He has come to this town before, and he will come again!"

Kyle had told me that someone did come to the town when they were ten years old. It was only for a couple of months, and I was not here at the time. The kid had claimed that he was the Son of Satan, born to bring the world to its knees. Kyle thought he was insane, and I agreed. It would be crazy to think otherwise. I want to argue this point to my mother, but there is no point. It will only upset her further. Right now I need her to calm down so we can all go to bed and get a decent rest. The jetlag is awful, and my head is starting to hurt. I will have enough to worry about with this case, which I'm meeting Kyle to discuss tomorrow, which is supposedly something to do with demons and the paranormal. I wonder if my mothers ramblings are related, but then I purge the thought. I'm not taking the descent into madness with her.

"He will not come again." I say gently. "And if he does, we can protect you."

She nods, her lips pursed, but still does not move.

"We should get to bed." I almost whisper, and Gregory and Sheana happily follow me to their rooms.

My mother's words haunt me. The antichrist? As much as I hate to admit it, it could actually be possible considering what I saw the last time I came to this town. The man, six feet tall and burly, was not red-skinned, and he did not have horns. He was dressed in a suit, and he had black hair, but his eyes were red and he insisted that he was the Prince of Darkness. I was ripped apart by Hellhounds. I think so any way. Surely no mortal dog would have jaws so strong they can take off a limb with one bite... But still... I climb up onto the top bunk shaking my head. Gregory will sleep below me, in the bedroom that was mine as a child, and Sheana will be in the guest room next door.

I can tell already that this case is going to be a major pain in the ass.

 **So I probably should have said before now but better late than never. None of the South Park kids actually believe the weird shit that happened in their childhood. Although they know deep down it is the truth, they have an unspoken agreement not to mention it.**

 **Also, I have given you two chapters in one day again to celebrate the release of the trailer (made by me) on Youtube!**

 **watch?v=fubKcI6z3-A &feature= **


	9. Wendy

Chapter 9 Gregory "We are meeting Kyle at noon." Christophe says, spearing a piece of pancake onto his fork. "He has been offered a hundred thousand to investigate a series of paranormal happenings. He thought we could help."  
It makes a difference from us contacting him for help, I suppose.  
"But are you sure this is our type of work?" I ask. "Supernatural beings? Ghosts? We don't even know if they are real."  
"If they're not, the better it will be." Christophe says. "With the amount of money we are being offered for this, we can take our gap year without needing to worry."  
"And if they are real, how do we combat them?" I demand.  
"They are most likely not." he says. "And if they are, I believe holy water and salt does the trick."  
His accent is really changing since he started being near his mother and I thought it was thick before.  
"Do you think that's what your mum was talking about?" I ask. "When she said about demons? Do you think it is something to do with this?"  
"It is possible." he shrugs.  
Shaena has been unnaturally quiet during the conversation and so I turn to her.  
"What do you think?" I ask. "You haven't said anything."  
"Yeah." she sighs dreamily. "I'm just thinking about how cool it is to be living real life Supernatural." I roll my eyes. I know what programme she is talking about, although I've never watched more than the first season.  
"Yeah, but Christophe and I are better than Sam and Dean." I smirk.  
"You wish." she says, stuffing a piece of pancake into her mouth, then continuing without swallowing. "If you were Dean, I'd have asked you on a date by now."  
Christophe smirks at us, and I know he thinks I have asked her for one. I resist the urge to flip him off, and opt to focus on my breakfast instead.  
Every one of our old friends are gathered in the warehouse where Kyle suggested we meet. They have changed in the five years since we last met. Kyle, who was once the shortest of us all, has stretched considerably, and is now a good bit taller than me. His once long red hair has been cut short, but it still bounces with a bit of curl. His green eyes are bright when he greets Christophe with a hug. I am surprised when he is not thrown off. Kenny's hair is mostly hidden by his snapback hat, but his blonde fringe flicks out from beneath it. There are bags under his hazel eyes, and I remember Christophe telling me that Kyle was worried that he was depressed. I can see why with a glance at his slouched shoulders, and unsmiling face. Butters and Token stand side by side. They are polar opposites at first glance. Butters is small and scrawny, with milky white skin, bright blue eyes and short blonde hair. Token is tall and toned, his skin is brown, his eyes are so dark they are almost black, and his hair is jet black. With the way they smile at each other, it is hard to believe that they once were not friends. Pip was a close friend of mine when we were here. We were drawn together at first with our shared British heritage but soon realized we had much more in common. His blonde hair has been cut short since we last met, but that is all that has changed. His brown eyes sparkle when they meet my blue ones, and I accept the hug that is offered to me.  
"It's been a long time." he grins.  
"I'm sorry." I say.  
Any excuse I could have given her for not maintaining contact dies in my throat when I catch sight of her.  
At first she stands half-hidden in the corner's shadow, but then she steps forward to greet me and I am able to see her in her full glory.  
Wendy...  
She is more beautiful than I remembered. Her skin seems to glow, although the lighting is dim. Her black hair shines as she tucks a loose strand behind her ear. Her brown eyes are sparkling with her smile. It is perfect, wide and welcoming, showing rows of straight white teeth. Her short purple dress hugs her curves in the best way and she stands on high heels. I assume she was planning to head to lunch with her friends after our meeting, since Bebe and Red stand behind her dressed in much the same fashion. My heart is liable to explode, meeting her again. Every ounce of love, that I have ever felt for her comes flooding forward, setting my senses alight. She extends her hand to me and it takes me a moment to take it. It is like I am in a dream, and if I am I hope to every deity listening that I will never wake up.  
"Hi." She says in her high, clear voice. "I missed you, Gregory."  
"I missed you too." I breathe.  
Then as quickly as I remembered how to love her, I remember how I hated her when I left. The last words I heard tumble from her mouth echo in my ears. Fuck Gregory. I see her in the arms of Stanley, smirking as my heart shattered. I notice how different she really is from Sheana. Her skin is lighter. Her eyes are darker. She is shorter, even in her heels. Her hair is shorter. Her actions were crueler. Sheana only ever hurt me when I hurt her. She would never let my heart shatter for no good reason. But Wendy... She gave me so much when our sweet love was in effect. She left me broken, but it was her that fixed me in the first place. Two flames flicker in my heart, and I honestly don't know which one burns brightest.  
Goes without saying, but I don't own Supernatural or the characters either. 


	10. The Case

Chapter 10

 _Christophe_

"I just can't believe they are real." I insist, and Kyle lets out an exasperated sigh.

I'm talking about ghosts. There is no evidence to prove they exist. Every possible theory of their reality is easily rebuffed by basic science. And I don't believe in what I can't see.

"How can you not?" Kyle asks, his brow creased. "You were brought back to life, for Goodness sake."

"That was different." I shrug. "I wasn't brought back as a ghost."

"But how is it different?"

"I just told you."

Gregory often says I am stubborn as a mule. Sometimes I do begin to believe his accusations. Kyle sighs again, and it is easy to see that he is becoming more stressed by the minute. I probably shouldn't, but I always like to piss my friends off.

"You saw Satan with your own eyes!" Kyle continues.

"Still different." I say.

"How is it?" Stan cuts in.

He is Kyle's best friend. Of course he is going to side with him. I glare at Gregory hoping that he will do the same for me. He calls me his brother? I am surprised that he doesn't cut in now, he hates Stan after the boy took off with Wendy. Gregory opens his mouth and I look at him hopefully.

"He's right Christophe." he says. "We know for a fact Satan exists. Logically, this means that demons, angels, ghosts and everything else paranormal probably exist too."

I'm going to kill him.

"And the anti-christ was here too." Pip chimes in with a nod.

So he actually believed the maniac that claimed to be Satan's son eleven years ago? How does he even remember that long ago?

"We can't stand around fighting." Wendy says, and Gregory's eyes light up.

He's my best friend, but the idiot still sickens me.

"This is real serious guys. People are being killed. We need to help them."

 _You can't help the dead._ I want to say, but I keep my mouth closed. I know what she means. We can make sure it doesn't happen again.

"She's right." Gregory agrees with a nod.

I might not like the girl, but it's hard to watch Sheana's eyes fill with tears. Gregory could have had a good chance with her, I know it, but he's played her now, and I doubt that she will forgive him.

I relent in my argument with a nod.

"Fine. We'll treat this as a paranormal case."

There has been three murders in the past month. Butters's father was the first to go. His wife had walked into the kitchen, after being out at the shops, when she found him lying in a pool of his own blood. The primary suspect was Butters himself. He was the only one in the house, although he claimed to be upstairs listening to music and studying. He has been unstable in the past, Kyle has told me, and he did suffer a lot of emotional abuse from his parents, his father in particular. But that couldn't be right. Even I know with a glance towards the boy that he is completely innocent. He couldn't do such a thing, not to his own father. And the absolute deal-breaker, he did not recognize the symbol that was written in blood beside the corpse. The second murder was a double. Token's parents. Token had been at work, and when he returned home he found his house surrounded by police tape and ambulances. The same symbol was written between their bodies. The third murder had happened on the night Kyle initially contacted me. It had been their old high school councilor, Mr Mackey. While everyone despised him while they were at school, they learned after leaving that everything he ever did was only to help them. They realized that he was one of the best teachers they'd had. It was his death that broke them up the most. Kyle had found him, he told us with tears in his eyes. He had been asked to go meet with the man concerning something of importance, but by the time he got there, it was far too late. The symbol was drawn beside him. I learned a few things about this case through Kyle's brief synopsis. Firstly, whoever, or whatever, was behind the murders worked silently, and quickly. Butters could not hear anything that was going on downstairs, not even a scream, and Mackey was taken down within ten minutes of phoning Kyle, and the boy arriving. The murders are linked to an extent. They are all adults, there were no witnesses and, most importantly, there was that symbol painted on the ground.

"I think Mr Mackey knew something." Kyle concludes.

"I don't know." Gregory shrugs.

"Why else would he want to see an old student suddenly in the middle of the night?" Kyle asks. "He knew something. I just don't know what."

"Either way, he can't help us now." I say. "Do you know what the symbol is?"

"We have no idea." Kyle shrugs, pulling a pile of photos from his pocket. "Take a look."

Nothing Kyle had told us in briefing could prepare me for how disgustingly brutal the murders really were, but I can see it easily in the photos. None of the victims had eyes after the kill. Only a soggy, bloody pile of mush laying in their eye sockets. Their stomach's were cut deep and wide, and organs and blood spill out onto the floor. I want to look away, but I must keep looking at the symbol. I have to burn it into my mind, because I know it will be very important to this case. It looks like the letter V, with curved lines cutting through each of its sides, connecting it to a triangle above. A lopsided X cuts through the triangle. I feel like I've seen the symbol before, but I can't remember where or when. I think perhaps that I have seen it in one of my mothers books about spirituality. I voice this.

"We can go look now." I add, but Sheana shakes her head.

Her face is ashen, and her eyes are wide, but she still talks with a clear voice.

"There's no need." she says. "That's the Sigil of Lucifer."

"So Satan is back?" Wendy asks.

It's strange how she believes in the Forgotten War, although to our knowledge only three people actually know of it.

"I doubt it." Sheana shakes her head. "The symbol is used to conjure demons to do your bidding. It would take an awfully strong soul to be able to summon Satan and attach him to them. I don't think anyone like that will still be alive, much less in this town."

"So a living person is to blame?" Kyle asks.

I have to admit, it will make our job much easier if it is only a mortal we have to kill to stop this from happening.

"Yes. The symbol might just be to freak us out..." she trails off.

"Or we may be dealing with a real life demon." Kyle finishes.

"Either way, we need to figure out who is doing these killings. Either to just stop them, or to break the bond so we can attack the demon." Shaena decides, and we all nod in agreement.

We decide to take a small break before regrouping to decide an actual plan of action. I am glad of that, since I haven't had a cigarette in almost two hours, and my chest is starting to ache with need. I light my cigarette as soon as we step out of the building, then follow Sheana and Gregory away from the door and to underneath a tree.

"How did you know all that?" Gregory asks Sheana as we walk.

She blushes lightly.

"I went through a bit of a goth phase in my early teens." she shrugs. "I got into that kind of stuff."

"So have you summoned a demon yourself?" he asks, and I hide my laugh with a drag on my cigarette.

"I'm not stupid." she smirks.

 _But he is._ I add in my head.

 **/?p=1342** **my explaination wasn't great, so here's a link to some info on Lucifer's Sigil and a picture of it :)**


	11. Triangles

Chapter 11

 _Gregory_

Wendy begins to walk towards us, her eyes resting on me, and I am convinced once again that I have managed to slip into a good dream. She crosses the graveled plain before coming to a stop only a few steps away from me. She smiles as she greets Christophe and Sheana in turn, but I can hardly hear her for my mind has went fuzzy. Somehow it manages to refocus when she fixes her eyes on me.

"Can I talk to you?" she asks. "Alone?"

I ought to say no. I should remember the way she has hurt me in the past, and say no, and just focus on Sheana. But I can't help but to nod.

"Of course."

I walk with her down the cracked sidewalk, and towards South Park Pond. She sits on a bench, but I remain standing. I watch as the water glitters under the golden sunlight in the prettiest of ways, and I allow myself to calm in the serenity that is the outdoors. The trees circle around the pond, some branches leaning down to kiss the water's surface. It really is a beautiful town, if you know where to go. We sit silently for a moment, listening to the gentle movements of the water, the wind through the trees and the chirping of birds, then she breaks it.

"We weren't on the best of terms when you left." she says softly.

She's right. When I told her I couldn't stay, that my mother wanted me back in England, that I had to finish my education, she became more upset than I had ever seen her. Angry, even. And then she kissed Stanley. And she had told him she wanted him, and not me. I shouldn't have been surprised really. Stanley was always in the middle of our relationship. Whenever I would fight with Wendy, which I remember now was quite often, she would run to him for comfort. It was such a normal occurrence that in the end I wasn't sure which one of us was the boyfriend, and which one was the rebound. But I still love her, and I think she still loves me. I have still thought about her every day since I left. I can't give up on her now.

"I'm sorry Gregory." she says. "But you were the one that left."

I am startled at the accusation. Yes I left physically, but I hardly had a choice. I had no plans of leaving my education behind at that time, and my mother surely would have disowned me then if I had stayed in America for some girl. And besides, I would have been there emotionally if she had let me.

"I had to." I force myself to keep my voice down, although I want to shout and scream and tell her how I really feel. "We could have chanced it. We had phones, we had access to the internet, I told you my address and I knew yours. We could have tried-"

"Tried to what!?" she explodes. "Stop living our lives. Stop being kids and just save our love for one day when we _might_ be able to meet again. I couldn't put my life on hold. It may be sad to say, and sadder to hear, but I was ten years old, thirteen when I gave up on the long distance, and not ready for that kind of commitment! I had my full life ahead of me!"

"As did I." I tell her. "But still... I am sorry. I never wanted to hurt you."

"I forgive you." she says, then she stands up.

She clutches my hand in hers and I mimic the gesture, then she stands on her tip-toes and leans towards me. I let her kiss me. It is an innocent one, one that could be shared by children who thought that a simple kiss was the highest commitment. It is still sweet though, and it ends too soon for my liking.

"I still like you, Gregory." she smiles.

"Me too." I breathe. "And I'm back now. But what about Stanley?"

"I haven't dated him in two years." she shrugs, then she pulls me down into another kiss.

She breaks it to give herself time to push me towards the bench. The back of my knees hit the wood and I am forced to sit down. Her lips are on mine again and I can feel her begin to straddle me. I wrap my arms around her and stroke her back with gentle fingers. Her hands clutch my shoulders and she deepens the kiss. Our tongues entwine, and I remember our love and nothing could be sweeter. She pulls back to catch her breath and I am stunned at the sight of her. Her brown eyes are dark with lust and her black hair has found its way to the front of her shoulders. Some loose strands tickle my neck.

"We should get back to the warehouse soon." I breathe, although I don't want to leave.

"Fuck the warehouse." she smirks, sliding off my lap and sinking to her knees before me. "They can wait."

She reaches for the zip of my jeans and I am glad for the cold since the park is empty. Something in the back of my mind screams at me to stop what I am doing and just return to my friends, but somehow I can't bring myself to heed it.

 **I'm not trying to hate on Wendy! She doesn't know about Gregory and Sheana, and these are Gregory (who had a bitter break-up with her)'s thoughts.**


	12. The Forgotten War

Chapter 12

 _Christophe_

I watch as Sheana rubs her hands to ward off the cold, but I do not rush. I stomp out my cigarette then light another. She sighs but I ignore her. I won't go inside until Gregory has returned. But he seems to be taking a long time. Sheana glances down the road with worry in her eyes.

"Do you think Gregory only liked me because I remind him of _her_."

 _Definitely_ _._

"I don't know." I shrug instead.

I can't bring myself to hurt her.

"I think so." she shrugs.

She is smarter than I thought.

"What does it matter?" I ask. "You rejected him."

"Only because I thought that. I saw a picture in his room." she explains.

"You nosy bitch." I say with a smirk.

The only photo I let Gregory keep of Wendy was the one in the photo album from our last trip here, and I know he keeps that in the top drawer of his desk. She must have had a glance around when she was sleeping in his room back in England.

"I was bored." she shrugs. "Anyway, lets not think about _them_ , it's making me sick."

I agree. We stand in silence for a few moments, and I take another puff of my cigarette. Its almost burned out. I'm already thinking about lighting a third, but I know its not a good idea. I don't have many left in my pack, even if they weren't blackening my lungs.

"What happened the last time you were here?" Sheana asks. "You _died?_ "

"It's a crazy story." I reply with a laugh. "I won't blame you if you don't believe me."

"I still want to know."

"Well, basically we were here just for a holiday, so I could visit my mother. But then shit went down." I say. "Satan rose."

She laughs and I silence her with a glare.

"I said you wouldn't believe me." I growl.

"I'm sorry." she says after she calms down. "It's just an absurd thought. Please, continue."

"His demons rose, and he planned to take over the world starting in the village. He was able to because Kyle's mother spilt the blood of an innocent."

"Then why isn't she in jail?" Sheana asks.

"I'll get to that later." I say, annoyed. "If you'll let me finish."

"Sorry." she mutters.

"I don't really know how we managed to take them down, but the people you met in there were part of the little army we gathered together. I was not there for the end of the battle, I was ripped apart by hell hounds just after the final battle started."

She winces, but says nothing.

"I don't remember much. I just woke up a little while later in one piece. I would have thought it had been a dream or something, but Kyle and Gregory remembered. They seemed to be the only ones, but I'm not sure. It makes sense though, considering Sheila walks free, like you said. We call it the _Forgotten War_."

"Sounds kind of cliche." she smirks.

"Shut up." I tell her.

I finish my cigarette and flick it to the ground, then stuff my hands in my pocket to fight the urge to light another. We quieten again. It's strange to be left alone with Sheana. It hasn't happened before. She scuffs the tip of her pink trainers across the gravel and I watch with mild interest, with nothing else to do.

"We should find a house soon." I say, just to break the silence. "We might be here for a while."

"You don't like your mother much, do you?" she asks.

"Non." I say simply.

She need not know about my past. Even Gregory doesn't know the whole story. And I have no desire to delve into hers.

"Where do you reckon they are?" Sheana asks, quickly changing the subject.

She may be a lot smarter than I first thought.

I start to think of what I can say to calm her, but before I can Gregory and Wendy are walking back towards us, hand in hand.

"I'll see you inside." Sheana mutters quickly, then all but runs back into the building.

The shit-eating grin on my best friends face is enough for me to know what's really being going on. I hoped he would not be so stupid to burn himself on the same flame twice. I really need to talk to him later.

 **There are some differences with Christophe retelling the battle and the actual battle because I wanted to show that kids memories can be warped by time and they could remember things differently when they are adults.**


	13. Love is in the Air

Chapter 13

 _Gregory_

Christophe glares at me as we re-enter the warehouse, and I immediately know why. I drop Wendy's hand. Sheana looks away from me when I catch her eye, hurt flickering in her eyes, and I feel terrible. I barely register what is happening back in the room because my mind is working into overdrive. I have managed to get myself into a right mess here. Its escalated in my mind to be more than just an issue over two girls. Its bringing up the pain from the past, I fear it could be putting my friendship with Christophe to the brink. Yes, I think I love Wendy but she still hurt me so much. Even when we were together, I am realizing now, she treated me awfully. I'm not even sure if she really did love me, although I definitely was enchanted by her. And then there is Sheana. Perhaps it is not love I feel for her right now, after-all we have only known each other for a couple of days and I barely know a thing about her, but there is definitely something there. I wouldn't have kissed her if there wasn't. I manage to catch enough of the conversations going on around me to realize that Butters will be investigating the crime scene of his father, since it was both personal and practical for him to do so. He had access to the crime scene and he knew the man most. Token will be investigating the death of his parents for much the same reason. Wendy and her two friends Bebe and Red are to investigate the death of Mr Mackey, for he was their favorite teacher both in and after school. Kyle and Stanley decide they want to research the symbol further to know what kind of monsters we could be dealing with. At first, Sheana wanted to join them since she knows a bit about it already, but I find my voice and insist she stay with Christophe and I.

"It makes more sense for the muscle to stick together." I reason. "Just in case we are needed."

The others are strong for who they are, but they weren't trained as assassins for the last several years.

My insistence earns both myself and Sheana a fierce glare from Wendy, but I ignore it. I guess Sheana does too when she agrees with a nod.

"Makes sense." she mutters, but she is looking at Christophe rather than me.

I have a feeling that I have managed to turn both of the girls in my life against me. I need to talk to Christophe later. Maybe he can help.

It is Christophe that comes to me first, after he has spent the rest of the day with his mother, who insisted they strengthen their bond.

"We need to talk." he says, indicating towards the stairs.

I follow him up into the bedroom we are sharing, and he locks the door before turning to me with anger in his eyes.

"Quite the ladies man, aren't you?" he all but growls. "I told you not to make a move on Sheana."

I fall silent at that. He did warn me, numerous times, but I opted to ignore him. It may well have been the stupidest thing I have ever done.

"I didn't mean for this to happen." I mutter.

"What, did you think we'd stay in England forever?" he asks.

The look on my face must betray me.

"Fucking God." he whispers. "You really thought you'd never see Wendy again, didn't you? What, you thought we'd never come back to South Park? You thought I'd stay away from Kyle forever?"

From Kyle? Could he...?

"Do you have a crush on Kyle?" I ask, honestly curious.

I never thought Christophe could be romantically interested in anyone, but stranger things have happened in our lives.

"We're talking about you." he says, but the blush that forms across his cheeks tells me that my hunch was right. I make a mental note to interrogate him about this later.

"I just don't know what to do. And I feel like a complete whore." I confess, changing the subject like he wanted.

"For fuck sake, cocksucker, you've only kissed two girls. It's not like you've fucked forty virgins."

I flinch at his wording.

"I suppose your right." I say though. "But I..."

I trail off. My head hurts, my mind is racing, my ears are buzzing, and I don't know what I think or know or feel. Christophe takes a cigarette out of his pack then offers one to me. I have never touched one, I always told myself it wasn't worth the risk, but I am sorely tempted.

"It will calm you down." he prompts gently, and its enough to make me take one.

We move towards the window and he lights the stick that I clutch between my teeth before lighting his own. My lungs and throat burn as I take a deep drag, and the smoke nips my eyes. I repress a cough, knowing that he will just mock me if I let it out.

"You are struggling to decide which girl, so you come to me." Christophe says for me, and I nod.

"Stupid idea really." I choke, my voice raspy from the smoke.

Still I take another drag. This one hurts less.

"I think." he says, taking another puff of his own cigarette. "That Wendy has hurt you enough already. She is a bitch, mon frere."

I nod, taking another smaller puff. This one doesn't hurt at all.

"And I think she will just do it again."

I nearly choke on my next puff.

"Sheana may be the same, you don't know." Christophe continues. "She hasn't had the chance."

I nod, and take another puff. It burns. Or that could be the lump in my throat. I listen intently to my friend.

"But if it were me, I would take that chance." he shrugs, tossing the cigarette out of his window. "I would take that risk. Wendy has hurt you, Sheana has not."

"So you think I should choose Sheana?" I ask, taking another drag of my cigarette.

I actually do cough this time and give up trying. I throw it out of the window.

"I am not." he shakes his head. "I am just saying what I would do. I don't know much about the subject. Like you said, it was a stupid idea to come to me."

That may be true, but he has helped me decide. I would rather wait and take a chance at Sheana than take the quick fix and choose Wendy, only for her to hurt me once more a month or two down the line. The relationship I had with Wendy was unhealthy to say the least, toxic even, and it would never work out. I just don't look forward to telling her this. I decide to forget about it for now, and turn back to Christophe.

"So about you and Kyle?" I smirk.

He grumbles something in French, pushes me out of the way then climbs into his bed.

"Fucking faggot, I help him then he bullies me." he whines into the covers, but I know he is joking.

Or at least I hope he is.

"Sorry." I say anyway, just in case, then I climb into my own bed.

I sleep more peacefully than I have all week.

 **I don't condone smoking. I thought I was John Green for a minute and tried to use cigarettes as a metaphor ^.^**

 **I posted two chapters today because they were both a bit shorter than the average.**


	14. Bonding?

Chapter 14

 _Sheana_

To my surprise, I am the first awake in the house come morning. Its something I am not used to. I roll out of my bed and quietly get dressed, then I cross the room to look out of the window. South Park is a lovely little town when you take a moment to look at its beauty. It is an urban paradise, really. All the little cottages with white smoke billowing from the chimneys, and the emerald fields filled with grazing cows and horses, and the old-fashioned pave walkways and roads. I open the window to take in some of the country air. It's a nice place, but I still wish I had not come here. If we had just stayed in London, I could have forgotten about that picture; passed it off as coincidence. I could have agreed to go on a date with Gregory, and I could pretend to be normal and I could perhaps find love and have that happily ever after. I will be twenty-one years old in two days, and Gregory was my first serious kiss. When the cold begins to bite, I slide the window shut and walk towards the door. I hesitate for a moment, wary to leave the bedroom without knowing that my friends will be downstairs and I won't be left with alone with Christophe's mother. Bridgette acts nice to me, but there is something unsettling about her that I can't quite place. And its not just her fear of Satan. I decide to chance it and open the door. I meet Christophe in the kitchen, smoking and drinking his morning coffee. I have been off cigarettes for almost two years now, but with the stress I've found myself under in the last couple of weeks, the smell of smoke almost makes me crack and ask him for one. I ignore the craving and cross the room to the coffee machine.

"Morning." I say to Christophe, and he grunts in response.

He grinds out his cigarette in the ashtray and takes a sip of coffee as I pour mine into a mug.

"What do you think of this case." he asks after a short silence.

I shrug. "I don't know. Its weird, that's for sure."

"Oui." he says. "Its strange that there have been no more murders since the teacher."

"Maybe he did know something." I shrug. "It would make sense for the killer to back of a little if he thought he might get caught."

"Maybe." he says. "I still don't understand it though. What connection do they have?"

"It could be random." I remind him, taking a sip of my coffee and leaning against my counter. "A display of power. Some goth kid not realising what they are doing. Or just a lunatic with no motive."

He shrugs again and focuses on his coffee. I take my phone from my pocket and scroll through my Facebook feed.

"When is your birthday?" he asks suddenly.

"Huh?"

I didn't expect him to care about that kind of thing.

"When is your birthday?" he repeats. "I just like to know these things."

"In two days." I tell him, glancing up from my phone.

We fall into a silence again, and I soon zone out.

"What the fuck are you looking at?" he snaps me out of my daydream.

I laugh.

"Oh thank God, you can be mean to me." I tease, realizing that I am the only one I have not heard him insult. "I was beginning to think that I was your special little snowflake."

"You special?" he smirks.

"Screw you." I reply, taking the book I am reading from the top of the microwave where I left it last night. "It looks warm out now. I'm going to read in the garden. It feels that little more magical."

"Nerd!" he shouts after me as I exit through the back door.

I don't even grace him with a response. It has become warmer outside, and I am pleasantly surprised since the cold was unrelenting only half an hour ago. There is still a breeze, but it is a nice one.

I follow the cracked path until I come to the fountain, then take a seat beside it. This would once have been a perfect garden, like one you would see in a home magazine, but it had withered with neglect when Bridgette became so afraid that she could barely even go out for groceries, much less to maintain a garden. It is still nice in its twisted way though, and I feel like I am part of a fairy tail out here.


	15. I'm Giving Up on You

Chapter 15

 _Gregory_

By morning, all of the doubts I had ever had about my feelings for Sheana have disappeared. I am still unsure on my love for Wendy, but I know deep down that Christophe is right, and that road will only lead to pain. There is only one path I am able to walk down, and I resolve that I will walk it. After going for a shower, I flatten my curly hair the best that I can and wear the nicest shirt I can find, then I go out into the garden to find Sheana. I don't know why I want to look nice suddenly, because she has seen me at my worst, but it just would feel wierd to be romantic without preparing myself. She sits behind a cracked fountain amidst the overgrown grass. It looks like a scene from Alice in Wonderland, or some other twisted fantasy land, for Bridgette Delorn has been too afraid to even venture into her garden for the past year. Sheana is reading again, but this time her hand covers the title and I do not recognise it. I clear my throat to get her attention, and feel the butterflies awaken and rise once more when I catch her brown eyes, sparkling with excitement from the adventure she was surely on with whatever book she was reading.

"Hiya." she greets, dogearing the page she is on and placing the book beside her. "It's quite nice out here, even if it is overgrown... And cold."

I nod and sit down beside her.

"It is." I agree, twisting a blade of grass nervously between my fingers. "What are you reading?"

I know I should probably be announcing my love for her right now, but my mind can't find the words and I'm sure my tongue wouldn't be able to sound them anyway.

"Alice's Adventures in Wonderland." she smiles.

Of course she would be reading the one book she reminded me of when I first saw her this morning. It makes sense that God would plan it that way. She reminds me of Alice a bit.

"And how do _I_ remind you of Alice." she giggles, and for a moment I fear she can read my mind.

It doesn't take long for logical thoughts to take over once more, and I realise how absurd that notion would be, though the other part of me insists I've seen stranger, and I realise I must have said it aloud.

"Well you thirst for adventure." I say. It's true, and so easy to tell. "And you are curious." I don't really know if that is true, but I list it anyway and hope she agrees. "You are educated and sensible and mature and polite." I take a deep breath then say the last one quickly. "And pretty."

You're probably thinking that I'm a pervert, but I'm not really. The last time I read the book I was ten years old, and I imagine that Alice will have grown up by now.

"But I'm not crazy." Sheana laughs. "Or rich, or posh or..."

She trails off, unable to think of any more of Alice's traits. Or I think that's why.

"But would you do a crazy thing?" I ask with a smirk.

It's about time I tell her how I feel before I forget what I came out here in the first place for.

"And what would that be?"

"Go on a date with me?" I ask hopefully.

She freezes for a moment, her eyes wide with shock, and then laughs gently.

"No." she says, and my heart hurts.

In my own delusions, and in my own excitement of discovering who I was, I somehow managed to forget that she could say no, and that her choice mattered just as much as mine.

"N-not right now." I stutter, remembering her words from that night when she hugged the pillow close to her. "Maybe another time?"

"Oh Gregory." she says, staring at me with sad eyes. "Do you really take me for a fool?"

"Wha-" I try to ask her what she means, but she silences me by pressing a long finger against my lips.

"I know now why you took interest in me to begin with. After I saw her at least."

I curse and curse in my head, feeling horrible. I don't know whether to cry or scream.

"That kiss wasn't just adreneline, its because you saw her in me. We do look a bit alike. Brown eyes, but mines are darker. Black hair but mine is longer... You don't want me, you want her. And I will not indulge in your fantasies of another woman. I'm sorry."

"No I'm sorry." I hear myself say as I fight back tears. "Your right, it was like that at first but now its not. I'd choose you."

She laughs bitterly.

"I'm not a Pokemon." she whispers. "You can't just choose me and expect everything to be all right again. I can't love you, Gregory, I don't even know if I can stay friends with you after realising this."

And my heart really does shatter. I lower my head in the hopes that my fringe will be long enough to hide the tear that streaked down my face at that.

"I'm sorry." she whispers, then she lifts her book and runs back towards the house.

 _Not even friends? The love I could live without, but a life without her now? I've only known her a week if that, but she still means so much to me. She managed to get into our lives, to turn our whole idea of normality upside down... and now she wants to walk out?_

I want to call out to her, to hold her in my arms, to refuse to let go until she promises that she won't leave me. But it would be useless, and it would just anger her more. I don't know how long I sit in the garden, cross legged and staring at the ground, but now Christophe is shaking me.

"Stop sulking." he says quickly. "Kenny needs us."

 **Oh look. It's suddenly a love story :p**


	16. The Beast

Chapter 16

 _Christophe_

The call I had received from Kenny was panicked and I knew immediately that he truly was in danger. The car speeds through the streets, the headlights cutting through the darkness that has settled over the town. The wheels skid slightly on the ice with every corner we take but I have no time to worry about it. The crucifix around my neck bounces against my shirt as we take a speed bump. I am not comfortable wearing the symbol of the entity that is the target of most of my hate, but if there is a chance it will protect me, I am taking it. Sheana and Gregory already hold their guns in white-knuckle grips. They are loaded with salt rocks rather than bullets, since Sheana remembers reading on a website that they can be used to combat evil spirits. I keep one hand on the steering wheel and feel the holy water in my pocket with another. The last time I headed towards evil like this, I was torn apart by a pack of feral animals. I don't want that to happen again. I want to be prepared this time.

The door has already been smashed through, and I guess it was done by the demon. We step over the splintered wood and into the hallway. Blood is smeared across the wall, and Kenny's father is unconcious at the end with a gash on his head. He's still alive, at least, I can tell by the steady rise and fall of his chest. I hold my gun tighter as I follow Gregory through the house. I feel cold fear creeping into my chest, and I struggle for once to ignore it. Gregory looks at me with concern, and I know I have failed to mask my emotions fully. Kenny's mother hides in the kitchen underneath the broken table. She puts a finger to her lips to tell us to be quiet, then points towards the stairs. We take that to mean that's where the murderer, or demon, is and begin to slowly creep up them. We get half way up before we hear growling, whimpering and pained grunts. We creep across the corridor until we come to another broken door and the noises are louder than ever. Gregory and Sheana freeze behind me and, although I don't want to, I know I will have to enter first. I put my finger on the trigger then barrel into the room. I shoot blindly towards the general direction of where I heard it, knowing that the salt rocks in my pistol were not enough to kill a human if Kenny were to get in the way. The beast squeals as my attack hits then fades away, but I manage to get a good look at it first. It was huge. It stood at least four feet tall, and that was on its hands and knees, and it had the berth of a rotweiller. It was hairless, vaguely humanoid, with huge claws that were now dripping with blood. It's eyes were a dangerous ruby red. It is the most disgusting thing I have ever seen. Quickly, my teammates and I run to the centre of the room to flank Kenny and who appears to be his little sister. I remember Kyle telling me in our friendly e-mails that Kenny had a little sister, Karen. She must be a teenager, but she doesn't look it. She is small and scrawny, mousy even, and she clings to Kenny whimpering and trembling with fear. Kenny keeps a fearless mask on his face, but I know it is just for Karen's sake. His clothes are torn, and there are a few scratches on his face, but otherwise he looks healthy enough. A few tense minutes pass and then the demon appears again. It is quick, but I am quicker and I fire another round towards its face. It hits target and it disappears again, but I know it will be back. Sure enough, it returns a few minutes later, trying to lunge from behind us this time. I pull my trigger and the gun jams. Panic grips me and I fear that this will be the end, and then a salt rock hits it from the right. I nod to Sheana and she smiles back at me. Gregory and Sheana take it in turns to ward off the beast while I try to unjam my gun. Nothing seems to be working. The time between attacks is shortening and we have no time to even think, much less come up with a plan to kill it for real. Again, again, again it attacks, and we can't hold it off forever. As if to prove my point, it appears again right in front of me. It is so close, I can touch it with my bare hands. I try to, with the intent of breaking the beasts neck, but it catches me by the shoulders before I can. It's breath is rancid, stinking of blood and decay. It throws me. I fly through the air, and the room whizzes past me at lightening speed, then I come to a stop. White hot pain flashes through my head and I hear the loud crack as I smash against the wall, and then I go crashing to the floor, disorientated. The room is spinning. I try to push myself up, but I can't seem to move.

"It's okay." I hear Kenny soothe his sister, but his voice is distant. It is like I am listening to him from under water. "He's okay. We'll be okay."

I try to look towards them, but my eyes can't focus. They are just swirling colours.

"Holy water!" Sheana is screaming. "Use the holy water."

I see movement as someone reaches into their pockets. A black shadow streaks across the room. There is a squeal, and I know it is the demon. There is a flash of brilliant white light, it is blinding. For a moment I think it is over, and then I hear the scream. Through my fuzzy eyes I see red. Blood. But who's? Karen is screaming. Is it hers? Everything else is silent and still. Only her sobs. And then another scream. My eyes focus, and I can see it clearly for a fleeting moment. The demon is standing on two legs, the claws on one of its hands are impaled through Karen's chest. Her eye sockets are filled with blood. How can she still scream? Holy water didn't kill it.

All I can think is fire, fire, fire. Its the only plan I can think of now. I will myself to move. Slowly, I manage to inch my hand down into my trouser pocket. My hand closes around my lighter.

The demon has turned to Gregory. It is advancing on him with glinting red eyes. I can see it all clearly now. It swipes its claws forward. Gregory jerks back before he can be impaled, but it still hits him. It shreds his white shirt, and slashes his skin. _Not my best friend. Not my brother._ I summon all of the energy I possibly can, and lunge forward. I am faster than I have ever been. I stand protectively in front of Gregory within seconds, and I'm sure I must be growling by now. I flick my lighter in the demons face. It erupts into an inferno, and burns down to a pile of ash. I turn towards Kenny and Karen. Karen is by some miracle, or torturous curse, still alive. She is weak. Her face is pale and her body trembles and her chest barely rises, but she is alive.

Kenny holds her in his arms, ignoring the blood that leaks onto him. He is whispering soothing promises and assurances into her ear, but she can't even see him any more and her bottom lip is trembling. She knows herself that there will be no coming back from it.

"Goodbye, brother." she chokes out past the blood, catching his eye for one last time, then her chest stops moving.

Kenny doesn't scream or shout like I expected him too. He lets out no sound other than a quiet sob. But tears streak down his face in rivets. Sheana cries with him, although she never knew the girl. Even Gregory sheds a tear. I am shocked when I reach up to wipe the blood from my face, and find tears on my own cheeks.

This murder is senseless to me. Of all the people in the room, people that were a danger to it, it chose to choose Karen first. A weak, innocent little thing. I glance around the room in search of the Sigil, but there is none around. What's so different about this victim?

 **Sorry. Sorry. Sorry! I love you, Karen!**


	17. The Sacrifice

Chapter 17

 _Sheana_

Gregory leads Kenny from the room, trying to shield him from seeing the body as much as possible, and down stairs so that he can grieve with his parents. Christophe and I lift Karen up onto the bed, trying to ignore the blood dripping on the floor and staining the sheets.

"Should we call the police?" I ask, my voice trembling.

Christophe shakes his head.

"You know they won't believe us." he shrugs. "We'll all just get carted off to an asylum and then we can't help anyone."

I nod. It does make sense, in the end.

"So we'll do this ourselves."

"Oui." he replies.

I notice his finger twitch and I know he must be craving a cigarette pretty badly. He hasn't had one since before the phone call, and we've all went through Hell since. None of us worse than Kenny and his family though.

"We should clean her up though." Christophe says, glancing towards the body then tearing his eyes away. "We can't find anything from the body now."

"I'll do it." I offer with a nod.

I knew her the least, never having come to this town before, so it just seems natural that I should take on the burden.

"Thank you." Christophe smiles, and I know he is being sincere. "I'm going to clean up the blood, and see if I can find the symbol on the way."

"It might be gone now." I tell him. Even I, who recognized it first, don't know much about it. "Or maybe it can be used at a distance."

Christophe nods and gets to work. I stand still and silent for a few moments, before telling myself that I had to do the same.

Gregory returns at some point and begins helping Christophe with the floor, but I barely notice him. I am too busy wrapping bandages around Karen's eye sockets, trying to ignore the way the blood soaked through almost instantly. It does the same on her chest, but I raid her cupboards and am able to conceal it with a fluffy purple parka. I can't think of what to do to hide the eye situation. I've used almost a whole role of bandages, and it is no use. I soon give up. As we work, Christophe mutters to himself all of the things he knows about the girl through e-mails with Kyle. I wonder if he realizes his crush on the boy, or whether I'm just turning into a hopeless romantic under Gregory's attention, but I soon turn my thoughts back to Karen. She should be my focus right now. Christophe whispers that Kenny was so proud of her after she scored a full ride through college to peruse social working. He told us that she wanted to help children that grew up in the way she did, in the slums of the town with alcoholic and abusive parents.. He tells us that Kenny was always so protective of her, and he would die rather than let her get hurt. But he couldn't tonight.

"She was such a good kid, from what I hear." he continues. "She-"

"Enough." I cut across him, finally finding the voice to ask him to stop

My voice is quiet but its enough to silence him immediately. Before we can think of anything else to talk about to try to keep our minds off the horrible scene we have just witnessed, Kenny re-enters the room. Their are bags under his eyes, and his face is ashen. I am glad we have managed to clean up the mess, before he reentered. He doesn't even look at us. He just crosses the room to the bed beside his sisters body. He stares down at her for a few moments, then begins to mutter under his breath.

"I'm so sorry Karen." I catch. "I should have protected you. I couldn't. I promise I will avenge you. We will find whoever is doing this, and we will punish them."

He bends down to brush a kiss across her forehead, above the bloodied bandages, then he kneels down beside the bed. I guess that he is praying. He stands up after a few minutes, then turns to face us.

"We should let the others know there has been another murder." he says flatly.

"I need to kill myself." Kenny announces, and the whole room lets out a collective gasp.

We have met with Kyle, Wendy, Butters, Token and Stan, after deciding that the whole team do not have to be present.

"No." Kyle shakes his head. "It's crazy."

"Of course its crazy." Kenny says. "Everything about me is crazy. I can come back."

The rest of the room look like they know what he is talking about, but I am just shocked and disturbed. Immortality? It's the craziest theory I have ever heard. Surely he is just a boy gone suicidal after witnessing the death of his sister. I will not let him do this to himself.

"What if you don't." I challenge, deciding to play along. "What if you stay dead."

"Then I will be at peace with my little sister." he says, his brown eyes hardening. "I will be away from the ghetto and shitty parents for good."

"But you'll be away from us." Kyle almost begs. "You need to think about this. Its your whole life we're talking about now. The risk-"

"It's worth any risk." Kenny argues. "We are left with almost no choice. If Mackey does know something, hopefully I can end up in the same place and get it out of him. Its the only lead we have."

"Maybe it is." Kyle cuts in. "But if you don't return, we'll only be one more man down."

I nod. I glare at Christophe and Gregory, hoping that they will cut in and help talk some sense into Kenny.

"So what do we do?" Kenny almost growls. "Sit and wait around for this monster to take another kill? What if its your parents Kyle! What if its Ike? What if its your little brother who dies next?"

Kyle's green eyes widen in shock, as though the thought has never crossed his mind. It probably hasn't. Most normal people wouldn't think of something so demented. It's why I know I'm different. Because I keep seeing Christophe flying through the air. I keep imagining the claws bursting through Gregory's chest. I keep seeing Karen's wide as as the life drained from them. I am officially a high caliber of fucked up. I almost don't notice that Kyle has nodded in resignation.

I want to argue against it, but I can't find my voice.

"Do you have a gun?" Kenny turns to us.

I shake my head, although I always have a small loaded pistol tucked into my sock, safety on, just in case. I watch in horror as Gregory takes his sleek and silver semi-automatic out from his jacket pocket and hands it to the man, but my voice still won't come and movement has failed me. Kenny raises the gun to his head.

"I should be back in twenty-four hours." he says quietly. "If this work."

I overcome my shock as he pulls the trigger. I leap forward with a shout, but I am too late. Blood splatters and he lands face down on the ground. I freeze as his body fades away. Maybe he is immortal. Gregory squeezes my shoulder reassuringly, after he stoops down to pick up his gun.

"He'll be back." he assures me. "I saw his gift at work during the Forgotten War. Unless it has abandoned him since then, you have nothing to fear."

And he begins to guide me out of the door.

"Oui." Christophe chimes in. "And bodies do not usually become nothing."

 _He will be back. It will be fine._ I repeat these words to myself as Christophe drives us back home.


	18. Try

Chapter 18

 _Gregory_

I know the moment my head hits the pillow that sleep is an impossible thought tonight. The sight of Karen's corpse is still burned across my eyelids and in the silence her screams still ring in my ears. My eyes nip with tiredness, but my mind whirls and my heart aches, and I don't know if my body can win this fight. I stare at the bottom of Chistophe's mattress. He has not said a word, and his breathing is heavy, but I know he is just faking sleep. He sleeps lightly at the best of times, and his insomnia will only be worse now that he knows what kinds of monsters lurk in the shadows, and what they are capable of doing. I listen to the clock ticking as the minutes pass, and urge for sleep to come, and then the stillness is interrupted with a soft knock on the door. I had a feeling Sheana would also be lying awake. I stay still for a moment, hoping that Christophe will give up his act and let her in. When he doesn't stir, I stand up and cross the room myself to open the door. She is pale and visably trembles. She looks up at me with bloodshot, teary eyes.

"I'm sorry." she mutters. "I couldn't sleep."

"Come in." I whisper back, then I turn and walk back to my bed.

I don't know if she has quite forgiven me for the way I acted in the garden. I sit down on the bed and look back towards her. She stands in the doorway, looking up at Christophe's bed. Perhaps he has actually managed to fall asleep despite it all. I can think of nothing else to do but pat the space beside me as an invitation for her to sit down. She quietly shuts the door then crosses the room like a blur. I catch her in my arms, rubbing soothing patterns into her back, as she clings to me. Her tears stain my blue nightshirt, but I don't care.

"I'm sorry." she repeats into my chest.

"It's alright." I tell her. "I couldn't sleep either."

"Not just for that. For everything." she says. "I'm sorry I thought that this demon hunting was going to be _fun_."

"It didn't seem real at the time." I console. "For any of us."

"I'm sorry for being mean to you." she chokes out. "Even before I knew about Wendy. And I'm sorry I yelled at you earlier when you only meant well. You have always been so kind to me. I'm sorry-"

I tilt her head up and press a kiss into her forehead to cut off her ramblings. Her eyes are light brown, softened with tears. I wipe away the stray teardrops with my thumbs as gently as I can, then I look into her eyes.

"There is no need to be sorry." I say gently. "I have deserved everything you have ever done to me, and if it were anyone else but you I would be acting the same. All this stuff with Wendy... Well I would have been angry too if I was constantly being compared to someone else. You think I am kind? How can I be, when I spend my life fucking up every relationship I can possibly have."

And I mean every word. Usually I do everything with a clear head, but lately... Lately I've been risking any love Sheana could ever have for me. I've been risking an almost life-long friendship with Christophe... I have been leaving my own life in shambles, for the sake of one woman. One woman that I have not seen in five years. One woman that did nothing but take advantage of me when I was with her. I just can't believe it has taken a death and Sheana's tears to make me realise that.

"You haven't." she smiles, then she presses a kiss onto my lips.

This one is slower than the last, and far less messy. I hold her close to me, then she prods her tongue against my lower lip. I oblige and give her access to my mouth. Slowly, we explore each others secrets. There is no adrenaline this time, no moment of fleeting passion, just a simple kiss. But it still sends sparks through my body. And it is still perfect. For a moment time stands still, and I know the meaning of life, and then she pulls away.

"We could make it work." I say before I can talk myself.

She smiles sadly.

"Of course it will." she whispers. "One day. Right now, we have much more to worry about."

I nod.

"I can't believe I need to kill a demon to win you over." I joke, turning so that I can lie down on the bed.

She laughs.

"At least its only one." she replies as she lies down beside me and puts her head on my chest.

It shocks me, but I'm not going to complain.

Sleep becomes possible in the warmth of her embrace.

It is early afternoon by the time I awake, and I realise I am making a habit of sleeping late. I must fix it soon. Sheana is still asleep, but she looks so peaceful that I can't bear to wake her. I carefully distangle myself from between her and the sheets and join Christophe where he sits on the floor, scrolling through a laptop. He has probably been awake for a good few hours.

"What are you doing?" I ask.

"Trying to find a house." he shrugs. "I can't stay here much longer. Maman tried to force me to go to church."

I knew Christophe would not cope long being back in Bridgette's house. There are some parts I am sure he has not told me, but he's given me enough of a picture to know that their relationship is weak to say the least.

"But you're searching two bedrooms." I say, looking over his shoulder to see the screen.

"I thought you and Sheana would be sharing a room, after last night." he smirks.

"So you were awake." I mutter under my breath.

"It was cute." he teases. "It's a shame you have to slay some dragons first."

"Demons." I correct him. "What is happening with you and Kyle?"

If he's going to tease me, I am going to do it right back.

"He does not know I have these feelings. And he will not know." he looks at me threateningly.

"Why?" I ask. "If you like him-"

"He is straight." Christophe cuts across me.

He turns back to the screen and pretends to inspect a small flat, but I can tell he is not reading by the way his eyes flicker.

"How do you know?" I ask.

"I just do." he says, his eye twitching in irritation.

"How many people know you are gay?" I challenge.

"You." he says simply.

"So how do you know? He might not have told anyone yet."

"Maybe I will tell him one day." Christophe shrugs finally. "But like Sheana said last night, there are bigger problems right now."

"And when do you plan to come out?" I ask. It's strange that he would hide himself.

"I might tell Sheana later." he shrugs.

"And your mother?"

"Fuck off."


	19. The Best We Have

Chapter 19

 _Christophe_

"Thank you." I say into the phone, and then I hang up.

Kyle has just called me to let me know that Kenny's gift is still, somehow, in tact and he has just returned from the dead. That's unbelievably not the strangest thing I have ever heard. I tell Gregory and Sheana about the call, and then we set off to the warehouse. I find my mind straying to thoughts of Kyle as I drive, and I blame Gregory entirely. It's his voice that keeps ringing in my ears, asking why I don't let Kyle know. Truth be told, I'm afraid. Its strange in a way, that I will be thrown across the room by a demon and feel no fear, I can stare down the barell of a gun without a flinch, I will take on a hundred gangsters with only Bertha, my shovel, beside me, but the thought of showing romantic feelings for anyone makes my blood run cold. I suppose to that it's more than that for me. On top of that, I have to face my conservative, religious freak of a mother and tell her how hard I am sinning. She will always, _always_ be my biggest fear. I notice Gregory's look of concern and realise that I must be letting a bit of emotion show, so I school my face into an indifferent mask as I pull up beside the building.

"Karen's happy down there." Kenny tells us with a tight smile once we have settled. "She's not as scared as I thought she would be."

 _Down there?_ See, this is why I hate God. Even a young helpless girl like Karen will be turned away from the pearly gates, forced down to the hellfire and sulphur to rot, without any good reason. She was a good kid, and the small amount of sins she committed make her worthy of eternal damnation. You'd think that the heavenly bastard was perfect; that he didn't send his own son to the lions.

"I think only heroes go to heaven." Kenny shrugs.

We're all heroes. Every one of us in this room, apart from Sheana and Pip, have helped to save the world from the apocolypse back in the Forgotten War. You think He's going to let _me_ in?

"That's all good." I snap. "But what did Monsuier Mackey have to say?"

I don't mean to take my anger out on Kenny, honestly I don't, but the thought of Karen spending eternity with Hitler and Bin Laden makes my blood boil.

"Not much." Kenny shakes his head. "Just that the demon was being controlled, which we already knew. But... He said the person doing it had red eyes."

 _Red eyes?_ I remember Kyle telling me that that kid who claimed to be a Son of Satan had red eyes... He thought they were contacts but its the best lead we have right now.

"He thinks he remembers him from somewhere... He just can't remember where." Kenny continues, and that almost confirms my suspicion.

"Damien." Gregory whispers. He remembers him by name.

Pip's eyes go wide, and he trembles a bit before he can regain control.

"O-of course not." he stutters out. "He was my friend. Surely I'd have known if he had returned."

I wonder if he would be capable of murder, and demon summoning, but I have learned not to judge character too quickly.

"It could be." Kyle nods, and his red hair glints under the florescent light. "But lets not jump to conclusions. We know nothing about the ritual. Red eyes could be a side effect or something..."

"Did you see Pip's reaction?" Gregory asks as soon as we get back in the Mercedes.

That shocks me. I thought that Pip would have been the boy he dated with how close they were when we were last here, until Wendy showed interest at least. I thought he would be defending him. I'm not complaining though, it makes my job easier.

"It's Damien." he continues. "I'm sure of it."

"He is not working alone." I say. "Pip is helping him."

"He would never-"

"And five years ago you claimed that Wendy would never hurt you." I say, looking into his eyes and ignoring how cruel I sound. "Time changes people Gregory, and you'd do well to remember that."

"But it was red eyes." he argues meekly, but I can tell he knows I am right.

"I couldn't find the sign in Kenny's house." I tell him. "It makes sense that someone was summoning the demon outside, while someone was inside keeping watch. It seems like a team effort."

"We can talk why's later." Sheana says impatiently. "If Pip is the best lead we've got, we should follow him and see if we can find anything."

"Or interrogate him and force it out." I say.

"Follow first." Sheana insists. "Look, he's coming out now."

I would never actually have guessed that Pip could be capable of this myself, but now that we've began to form an idea of what's going on, it seems like the best explaination. He has done the least to help in this mission, although he has always been in the background of our meetings. Sounds like the work of a spy to me. And he was the one that first mentioned him, back when we were talking of the Forgotten War and the other wierd things that happened in the town, when no one else gave him a thought. And he was his best friend when he was here, or at least that's what Kyle tells me, and Kyle has never been wrong yet. But then again... Why would the antichrist attack a small town like this? Why would he only have three kills under his belt? And why would he be foolish enough to leave us clues? It doesn't all connect, I'll admit it. But its the best lead we have right now. Any lead is always worth investigating.

 **Two chapters today since this one is so short and because I forgot to upload yesterday :)**


	20. Pip

Chapter 20

 _Gregory_

We park in a side street and wait for Pip to pass us. We give him a few minutes to get a head start then we tail him slowly, as not to get caught out. Christophe knows what he's doing, he's done this kind of work enough times. We must stay close enough that he can't leave our sight and elude us, while still staying in the shadows and out of suspicions way. We follow him to the local coffee shop and watch through the window as he talks briefly to Tweek, the anxious and twitchy barista, then leaves with a coffee cup clutched in her hands.

"What do you think he said to him?" Sheana asks, as we begin to move again.

"To Tweek? Nothing important." I say. "Do you think you can trust someone with a nervous disposition like that not to leak secrets?"

Pip spends a few minutes at the Pond to finish his coffee, and I am sickened at the memory of what I did the last time I sat on that bench. He stands up after a few minutes then we follow him back to his apartment. He has done nothing suspicious, and for a moment I think our theory was wrong, but I still can't shake the feeling of unease that I have.

"Enough, we're going in." Christophe says as he parks outside of the apartment complex.

It's not the richest part of town we are in, but it is still quite modest for an orphan who was left with nothing by the age of fifteen.

"If he does know something, we won't find out stalking him. We can scare him into talking, I'm sure."

"But what if he is responsible." Sheana argues. "We could die."

"We can always die at any moment." Christophe reminds her.

"Its in the job description." I agree.

She hesitates for a moment and then relents. She puts a hand in her pocket and I know she is feeling the handle of her gun. I do the same sometimes, it makes me feel safer knowing that I have some type of weapon to help me.

Christophe loudly knocks the door and after a few minutes Pip answers it. His eyes widen at the sight of us, but he quickly hides his fear.

"Oh, hello." He masks his face into a grin. "Would you like to come in for some tea."

Christophe pushes past him, Sheana and I follow and I close the door behind us.

"We need to talk to you." Christophe says, stepping closer to him.

He's trying his best to be intimidating. I know all of his tricks and acts by heart now.

"We think you know something about these murders."

"Me?" Pip trembles. "Why would I know anything. Gregory, you know I would never do something like that"

"I don't know." I chip in. "Its been a while since we met. However, I do know that if you do know something, you can't keep quiet about it, Pip. A lot of good people are dying."

"So start talking." Christophe demands.

Pip sighs and turns away.

"I was doing so well." I hear him whisper in a thick voice.

"What was that?" I ask.

"Get out." He snarls, eyes narrowing, and it is my turn to tremble. Any hint of his previously cheeriness has disappeared. "I refuse to die! Not for you, not for anyone! If you know what is good for you, you will just leave."

"You will not die." Sheana tries to soothe him. "We will protect you."

"Oh, and you did a good job of protecting little Karen." Pip snarls cruelly, and tears glaze over Sheana's eyes for a moment before she blinks them away. "You can't fight him. You can't beat him. Just stay quiet, and try to stay alive. It's the only warning I will give you."

"Who can't we beat?" Sheana tries gently.

"But you already know." Pip smirks. "You are smarter than I thought, but not smart enough to listen when I tell you to _leave_!"

Her voice seems to shake the walls as she shouts out the last word, and Sheana quickly pulls us towards the door.

"Come on." she insists, then adds in a whisper. "He has helped us enough."

He has. He has told us that Damien is responsible, and he is obviously involved if he knows so much. He was not at the meeting to know that we were with Karen and Kenny when the tragedy happened.

"Shut up." Kyle says. "Pip? _Our_ Pip?"

After being all but thrown out of Pip's house, we decided to risk the demon that is Sheila Broflovski and went to Kyle's house, although it was almost midnight, to tell him the new information. You may say I am too harsh on Kyle's mother, but I don't think I am. Even if he was returned to us in the end, she still caused Christophe's death. The poor boy was torn apart by his greatest fear because of her foolish actions.

Christophe merely nods in response.

"You've got to be mistaken." he shakes his head. "Pip's too good of a guy. He goes to church all the time, he is always doing charity work and all that stuff. And why would he want to hurt us anyway? We've been nothing but kind."

"Apparently he doesn't think so." Sheana sneers, and she looks even more beautiful caught up in anger. "he practically told us."

"And he's weak willed, is he not?" I chip in. "It would be easy for anyone to threaten him, much less a self-proclaimed anti-christ."

The redhead pauses for a moment, and I can tell he is deep in thought.

"I'll hack his computer." he says finally. "I doubt I'll find anything, but its worth a try. You guys go home and get some rest, you look like you need it."

"Thank you." I say.

"Kyle!" Sheila's voice booms from inside the house. "Who are you talking to at this time?"

"No one, mom!" Kyle shouts back, then looks at us with desperation in his emerald eyes. "You better go. I don't think she'll be happy to see you." and then he closes the door.

At least now we are getting somewhere with this case, and I want it to just be over. I never signed up to be a paranormal investigator.

We return home, hoping that this is the right lead, and we do not have to go back to square one.


	21. Heart to Heart

Chapter 21

 _Sheana_

"You know about hacking too?" Christophe asks.

We are sitting in the kitchen. He is smoking, and I am reading. Gregory is in the shower, I believe.

"Yes." I say. "A bit. Not as much as Kyle though, I wouldn't reckon."

"He can only do it through computers." Christophe shrugs. "I don't understand it all really, but I know its possible to hack a phone. Can you do that?"

"Yes, I think so." I nod.

I'm better at the engineering side of things, but when push comes to shove I have basic knowledge on almost everything electronical.

"I'll need the mobile though." I add. "I doubt they use landlines any more. It is Pip you are thinking of, isn't it."

"Oui." he takes a puff of his cigarette and the smoke spirals from his mouth.

We fall silent for a moment, and I turn my eyes back to my book, and then Christophe breaks it again.

"What do you think of Kyle?" he asks.

A strange question, but I still answer it.

"He's alright." I shrug. "I don't know him too well, but he's certainly intelligent enough. Kind, and obviously very loyal."

"No, do you think he is single?"

Stranger question, but still I answer.

"That hardly matters to me." I laugh. "I've promised my love to Gregory. I thought you supported that notion."

"I do." he says hurriedly. "I didn't mean that... Do you think he's gay?"

The whispered last line clears everything in my head, and I understand why he is asking this.

"You are?" I ask and he nods. "And you like Kyle?"

He blushes red and I take it to mean yes.

"I only told you I was gay because Gregory insisted that I should." he grits out. "Don't let anyone else know."

"Your secret is safe until you are ready to share it." I smile, happy that I am one of the first to know.

It makes me feel like I'm really a good friend of his.

"Does your mother know." I ask.

He laughs bitterly, and I feel the need to apologise.

"So are you going to confess to Kyle?" I ask.

I really don't mean to turn the conversation into a game of twenty questions, but this just seems exciting to me. I love it when people are in love. Just as long as it isn't me.

"I don't even know if he's gay." he shrugs.

"Aww it's so romantic." I let slip my feelings.

He laughs at me, but this time it is with genuine mirth.

"You are such a girl." he says, crushing out his cigarette.

"And you're only noticing now?" I smirk.


	22. Sheana's Birthday

Chapter 22

 _Gregory_

"So you're finally of legal age over here." Christophe jokes, throwing an envelope across the room to Sheana.

We are sitting in mine and Christophe's room, unable to work any more on the case until Kyle gets back to us with information. And apparently it's Sheana's birthday, and I didn't know.

"Thanks, _connard_." she laughs, opening the envelope to reveal a card.

It is a generic one, with big roses on the front and 21 written in the corner, but its better than what I gave. She leans up from a place on the floor to place it on Christophe's desk, beside his computer.

"Sorry." I tell her. "I didn't know it was your birthday."

"You never asked when it was." she shrugs.

She manages to make me feel like the worst person to walk the Earth with six words. That must be a new record.

"Happy Birthday." I tell her, sounding as apologetic as possible.

"Thank you." she says simply, and then Christophe's phone rings before the situation can become awkward, and I thank every deity that could be watching over me.

"Nothing?" Christophe asks into the mouthpiece.

I faintly hear Kyle's voice, but it is too distorted for me to understand.

"I didn't think he'd have a file on demons." Christophe admits. "Maybe check his e-mails? He could be communicating through them."

He pauses while Kyle says something else to him.

" _Oui_ , Sheana says it can be possible to chip his mobile, but we'd have to get it off him, and with our confrontation yesterday I doubt he is going to just hand it over... You could? Great."

I wonder what Sheana and Christophe have been talking about when I haven't been with them. They seem closer than they appear, and what I thought they would be, and for some reason there is a pain in my heart. I think it is jelousy, and the logical part of me tells me to shut up. Why would I be jelous because Sheana has more friends than me? It's perfectly normal for her to have relationships with other people, even stronger than our relationship. Somehow, I don't believe that part of me.

" _au revior_." Christophe says, then he hangs up and turns to us. "Kyle can get us Pip's phone and replace it with a decoy next time he sees him. He's going to monitor his e-mails to look out for anything suspicious."

I doubt that he will be communicating with the antichrist through modern technology, but once more its the only lead we can possibly go on.

"He won't be able to get back to us for a while." Christophe shrugs. "So, if you want to go for a night out?"

He must be joking.

"Oh yes." I say with as much sarcasm as I can. "Let's just go out and get wasted while innocent people are being murdered, and we ourselves can be minutes from death."

"We always are, its in the job description." Sheana echoes the words we told her yesterday with a smirk. "And besides there's nothing else we can do right now."

"But we should stay on guard." I argue.

"We will." Christophe shrugs. "We've fought off murderers drunk before."

He's not lying. We were in the Guild when we first turned the legal age of eighteen, and on a mission at that, but it still didn't deter us from celebrating. Not when I turned of age in midwinter and we had a serial killer stalking us and not when Christophe's birthday came in July and we were supposed to be infiltrating a high profile drugs cartell.

"That was different." I say. "It wasn't a fucking demon."

"It was close enough." Christophe shrugs. "Come on, lighten up. We could use a night out."

I merely glare at him, then ready my resolve when Sheana opens her mouth. I already know she has more chance than him to persuade me.

"You are going to deny me the right to celebrate my birthday." she seethes. "Even after failing to acknowledge the fact."

"I did." I try to reason.

"After Christophe did!"

"I didn't know!"

"That's your own fault."

"How?!"

"Because you don't ask me things! All you want to do is kiss and quote books to me and complain about how much of a hindeance I am. And the worst part? You don't realise how messed up it is! You think you can just come along and woo me when you know nothing about me! Chris at least talks to me, and so he knows who I am."

The Frenchman in question raises his hands and takes a step back.

"Hey, I'm not getting involved here."

"I'm sorry, but its true!" her eyes glaze over with tears for a moment before she blinks them away, and I realise this happens a lot.

Every word she has screamed at me rings true, and every syllable is like a knife to my heart.

"I'm sorry." I relent, once more feeling like a waste of life. The girl is good at making me feel like this, without even trying. "You're right. What harm can it do? What were you thinking?"

She grins and for a moment I wonder if she was manipulating me, and then I remember the truth to her words and the passion in her voice. She wasn't just saying those things to get what she wanted.

"I want to go to that new Italian place for dinner." she says. "Christophe says its supposed to be good. Then we can hit the town and go to a few bars for a couple of hours then come home. We can't get too drunk or leave ourselves with too much of a hangover tomorrow of course, that would just be stupid..."

We let her ramble on about all of her fantasies for her perfect birthday, and it strikes me that she is just a twenty-one year old girl struggling through life. We all are just kids, no matter how old we act. And its easy to forget it in a life like ours. She probably never even had much of a childhood, for those who will spend time in the Guild seldolm do, and I vow to learn about her tonight. About the life she had before we met and were thrown into this supernatural mess. About who she really is. I make it tonight's top mission.

Dinner is a lot more fun than I expected it to be. The food is good, the music is bearable, and the atmosphere is great, especially when I am sitting in a booth with the only two people that I consider to be my friends. The rest of them, Kyle and Kenny and Butters and Token, are all good people, but I consider them associates. Tools that can help me solve certain cases. Even Wendy now means a lot less to me than she once did. She is not how I remember her, and I have come to the conclusion that my mind warped my first love into something must grander than it actually was. And after Sheana's rant, I find myself wondering if I ever really knew Wendy, or just saw her in the way that I wanted to. I have a bad habit of doing that.

We find ourself drinking glass upon glass of wine while we eat, although we swore we'd wait until we hit the bars to touch alcohol, and we are already bordering on tipsy when we leave the restaurant. It would maybe be wise to go home now, but tonight isn't for being wise. It is for being young.

 **I'm so so sorry that I took so long to update, I've been unbelievably busy the last few days. Have three chapters as an apology!**


	23. Sorry

Chapter 23

 _Sheana_

Within the next two hours, we visit at least four bars and clubs. We have a drink or two in each, then move on, wanting to take in everything that the town has to offer. The nightlife is better than I expected for a small town like this. The first place we visited was a club. We only stayed for one drink, because the rave music roaring in the background irked Christophe and made it impossible for us to hear each other. The second was a quaint bar with a jukebox and a snooker table. We had a pint or two over a game, and it reminded me of being back in Britain on a Sunday night, when the partying was over and I only wanted to relax with my friends. The third was another club, a bit quieter than the other one but with lights that flashed a bit too bright. Two drinks and we were moving on. We are still in the forth one. It is just a bar, but a DJ still plays. There are strobe lights here, but far less often and a lot less bright. The music is a mix of genres, and while rave music is still littered through the choices (for the sole reason of annyoing Christophe, he seems to think) it is mostly my style. Or at least a more bareable style. It reminds me of my favourite bar back in England, where I spent most of my weekends when I was off work. It was on the outskirts of London, in a town quite like South Park, and I made friends with the regulars quite easily. No wonder that people once thought I was an alcoholic. Perhaps, looking back, they were right.

I've lost count of the amount of drinks I've had since we entered this pub, but by the way the room is spinning I guess it has been a lot. I fear I am slipping into old habits when the influence is within reach. Christophe and Gregory are the same I guess. Christophe's accent has become much thicker, and less and less English is being incorporated into his speech. I only know basic French, so I hope that he doesn't lose all ability to speak my language. Gregory, it seems, does not have an accent other than the posh Oxford one he always adopts. Or at least he's better than us at hiding it. I can hear that my voice is smothered in a heavy accent, and I keep accidently slipping in slang from Scotland, but I think my friends can still understand me.

I don't know how it happened, but I am sitting in the booth with my head on Gregory's shoulder, and his arm is wrapped around me. I should move away, and not give him false hope until after the mission is complete and I can truly settle with him. It may be selfish, but I don't want to love him truly now, in case he is ripped away from me with, God forbid it, death. I can't stand the thought of moving though, for I am so comfortable and feel so safe in his arms. I tell myself that he will not remember this come morning, and it lets me feel a bit better about myself.

"Smoke." Christophe says simply, before standing up and heading towards the door.

I'm sure he will be fine alone, although he has left his shovel at home.

I turn to Gregory with a smile.

"It's been fun." I say.

"I'm glad you've enjoyed it." he grins at me, and then adds "I'm sorry."

"What for?" I ask

I know he forgot my birthday, but he's already apologised for that and he's done more than enough to make it up to me.

"Everything." he says with a small shake of his head. "Your birthday, of course. Then there's the way I'm always flirting and stuff when you obviously don't want it. Its the mark of an asshole."

"Fuckboy." I correct before I can help myself and immediately regret it, because it is obvious he is being nothing but serious.

He just looks at me for a moment, then decides to ignore it and continue his speech.

"And then there's the stuff of ignoring you for Wendy when we came back, because I was too selfish to think of anyone else's feelings." he says. "To be honest, it would take all night it I was to list everything... And I have the audacity to call myself your friend."

"You are my friend." I say, reaching up to run a hand through his hair.

It's the softest thing I think I have ever felt.

"Its all okay. I still love you." I add.

Why did I say that? I said I wasn't going to give him false hope any more. But, then again, I've been giving him false hope from the start. I don't know what I want. I don't know if I can see a life with him. I don't know if I love him. Yet I told him we would try. But I said we had to wait. Is it fair to keep him waiting?

"Thank you." he smiles after a long silence.

"For?" I ask, because I honestly don't know.

"For everything." he smiles. "For changing me for the better."

"What do you-" I was going to ask what he meant, but I am cut off by the loud beat of a song before it quietens. The DJ apologises through the mic, but I don't dare continue with the conversation. It's one I want to avoid right now, when I'm trying to have a good night. Christophe is taking an awfully long time...

"Do you want to dance?" Gregory asks, and I am glad for the break.

"Of course." I accept with a nod. "It is my birthday."

"Happy birthday." he whispers again, as I fall into his arms.

" _l'amour des oiseaux_ " Christophe teases as he heads back towards the table, and I can't help but smile.

 _Love birds_.

It has reached the early hours of the morning by the time we make it back home, but thankfully we don't wake Christophe's mother up. We are adults, but it would be unfair to wake her up. We sit outside on the porch, drinking wine that Christophe managed to swipe from the kitchen, even though we all know it is one of the worst things we could possibly do in the state we are already in. Christophe is smoking, or at least he is until I steal it frombetween his lips and take a puff of it. I am not really a smoker, definately not like Christophe, but I do like the occassional taste when it is mixed with vodka.

"You could 'ave asked for one." Christophe grumbles, pulling out a new one and lighting it.

Then he offers the packet to Gregory

"You might as well, since we all are."

The boy glares at him, but still accepts his offer. We sit there smoking and drinking, foolish as it is, and I cherish in the feeling of youth, knowing that it will not last forever. The night is serene, and surprisingly warm. In that moment, I can forget all my troubles, and all of the injustice in the world.

Almost.


	24. Past, Present and to the Future

Chapter 24

 _Gregory_

Christophe finishes the rest of his cigarette, has a sip of wine then stands up.

"I'm going to bed." he says. "My head is starting to hurt already. You too can stay up if you want, but be quiet and lock the door behind you."

I start to follow him into the house but then Sheana catches my arm and fixes me with pleading eyes and I can't help but stay. I take another drink and then offer the bottle to her. She takes a swig and I remember the vow I made to myself earlier.

"So tell me about yourself." I smile. "I really want to know."

"What do you want to know?" she asks.

I can tell she is trying to keep the accent from her voice, so that I can understand her easily.

"Let's start with why you took the job at the guild."

"Ocht, It was a good paying job." she shrugs. "I heard about the guild from a pal, and decided to give it a shot."

"But where did you get the skills. When did you learn to fight and be an bomb expert and stuff?"

She hesitates for a moment, and then I guess she decides to share it with me.

"I grew up on the back streets of Glasgow." she shrugs. "Where I grew up, street fights were the norm. We'd form our little pretend gangs, and we'd be drinking cheap cider, and we'd be smoking weed, and we'd be beating up any poor bastard that wanted to pretend to be a part of another pretend gang."

"Like... Like a Football Firm?" I guess.

I have heard about these kinds of people around London too. I just never saw that Sheana could be someone like that.

"I didn't guess a posh one like you would know what that was." she laughs. "Yes, you are right in a way."

"So you went from street fighting, to vigilatism?" I ask uncertainly.

"Not exactly." she breathes. "I probably shouldn't tell you this... I'm the only one that knows. But... I need to get it off my chest."

"You can tell me anything." I assure her.

"I was in a fight with some guy, someone who didn't care that I was a girl." she says, staring up at the moon rather than looking at me. "A knife got pulled, and of course things escalated. I won't go into graphic detail, but long story short there was a bit of a scuffle and I came out of it with blood on my hands, quite literally. I was a murderer. Manslaughter or not, I would have still gone to jail for the longest time, and I couldn't stand the thought. Selfish as it is, I couldn't face going to jail."

"So you went to the Guild for refuge." I finish for her, knowing that many members had the same back story.

I am shocked that Sheana could be capable of something like that because of some pretend gang, like she had said, but at the end of it all I have as much blood on my concience as she does. Once you enter the Guild, you're marked as a murderer. That's why the police and the government despise us. Why we are not accepted as a branch of them.

"Aye." she says, taking another sip of wine. "I said I was good at chemistry and physics, which I was, so they trained me up to use it in combat. They already knew, from what I had done, that I could fight."

Her voice cracks and tears fill her eyes. She doesn't let them fall.

"You can cry if you want." I say gently. "I couldn't blame you, having to live with that kind of secret. I won't think any less of you."

It's like my words break down a dam she has built, and tears begin to flow freely down her cheeks, staining them black with mascara and eyeliner. I pull her close to me in a hug.

"I don't like feeling weak." she says.

"You're not." I assure.

"And I don't like feeling vunerable." she adds.

"But sometimes you need to." I soothe.

And I don't exactly know how it happens but we are kissing again. It is wet and messy. We are drunk and she is upset, I can't expect anything more. We finish the bottle, a swallow of wine each, and then we are in the house, only pausing to lock the door. We somehow manage to keep making out on our way up the stairs and she pulls me into her room. We fall onto the double bed and we somehow manage to rid each other of clothes, pausing in our kissing for only seconds at a time. She is tracing lines on my chest, begging me to give in to temptation. I know we will both regret this come morning, but for now I don't care. I deepen the kiss, and prepare for more.

My head is throbbing and I'm afraid to move in case the contents in my stomach come rushing back up.

"I'm never drinking again." I mumble under my breath.

"If I had a dollar for every time I heard someone say that, I'd never have to work again."

I open my eyes and turn on my side to look at Sheana. She is smiling, and I count it as a blessing. I faintly remember what happened last night. Either she doesn't, or she's okay with it all.

"Good morning." I say. I consider not arguing with her, but then I decide against it. "I'm glad I don't have to listen to that accent of yours anymore."

"Fuck you." she says. "Al talk how a want. Maybe al keep talkin' like this just tae piss ye aff."

"It would work." I laugh, then stretch.

The sick feeling is fading slightly, which I am glad of.

"So will we count last night as our first date?" she asks.

"Why, do you want to give a relationship a try?" I ask hopefully, excitement rising.

"We already had a relationship. All connections with people are relationships. But if your asking if I want to be your girlfriend, then yes. Why not?"

"You remember last night?" I ask, wanting to ensure that she knows what she is saying.

I never want to take advantage of her. And I can't help but feeling like I did last night when she was so intoxicated.

"Yeah." she says. "It was quite good. I don't usually do that on a first date, but for you I'll make an exception."

She leans forward and presses a kiss into my forehead.

"There's nothing left to lose." she smiles. "I want to love you. But if I need to go to the clinic for anything, I will kill you."

Even with her eyebrow raised in the cutest of ways, I don't doubt her threat.

"I'm clean." I assure her. "And I'm sure we won't have a baby the first time... right?"

"Don't even mention babies." she warns. "I can't even think about that, especially when we have a demon to kill."

"Well then, we better get dressed and find Christophe. Maybe Kyle has managed to find something by now." I say in an attempt to change the subject.


	25. Caught

Chapter 25

 _Sheana_

Kyle had found something. It was an e-mail, cockily signed straight from Damien. It was intended to be cryptic, but we figured it out quickly. We planted holy water and crucifixes in Pip's house, hoping that it would be enough to keep Damien out if he is really who he claims to be.

We decide to take it in turns to shadow Pip, knowing that we will be far more suspicious if we do it as a group. Gregory had contacted the Guild and told them we had found a job, but we needed a few extra cars. They sent us a black Mustang, a silver Avenger and a red Civic. I choose to drive the Mustang. I park outside Pip's apartment in the early morning and wait until noon before he leaves. I duck down so that he can't see me as he passes. I wait a few moments then begin to follow him. He walks the long way into town, on the backroads. I curse when he cuts through the forest, knowing that I can't drive through. I grab my phone and the keys then get out of the car and begin to follow him down the dirt road, keeping my distance all the while. It seems strange that he is taking this road, but I soothe myself by reasoning that he probably wanted a bit of fresh air and to take in the scenary. It was a pretty place despite all the crazy shit that had been happening since we arrived here. My feet start to ache pretty soon. This road is a lot longer than I thought it would be, and the bramble is getting thicker the further into the woods we go, reaching out to me with its jagged ends. I sometimes wish I had rejected Gregory and Christophe's offer and stayed in England. I could have found a good paying job in London without having to deal with literal demons. I know how to kill a person, not some kind of paranormal being. The path begins to curve up in a steep hill and I grumble quietly under my breath as I climb it, even though it makes me more breathless. I don't know how I'm getting so exhausted. I have been trained to be able to vacate an exploding building within a minute, trained in almost every fighting style that exists (or so it seems), and to scale walls and fences within seconds, yet I am defeated by a stupid hill. With that thought, I feeling of unease washes over me. What kind of powers does this Damien guy have? Maybe its being close to a demon that's doing this. I shake my head to rid myself of fear and continue climbing. If it is an antichrist he is going all the way out here to meet, all the better for us. We can get more information. I make it to the top of the hill and manage to duck down before they see me. I peer over the top of the mound and watch as Pip crosses over the clearing and catches Damien in a hug.

"I'm sorry." he says, and I am close enough to hear. "It must have been Kenny or Kyle, they are helping them."

"As long as we can still meet." the other says, then his red eyes harden. "But you didn't follow your orders."

"I'm sorry, Master." Pip simpers.

"I told you to make Bridgette DeLorn your next victim, and you failed me." he hisses, and my heart drops.

Christophe's mother?

"I couldn't." Pip says falling to his knees. "The place is filled with crucifixes and holy water. And that's where those vigilantes are staying."

"The vigilantes... The ones you mentioned earlier?"

Pip nods.

"They shouldn't be a problem. You took out the McCormick girl in front of them, did you not?"

"But it was the mother you sent me for." Pip argues. "The girl just got in the way. The demon took them by surprise."

Damien sighs, then turns away for a moment. He puts a hand to his head as if suffering a headache, then growls and turns back on his servant.

"I will forgive your mistakes." Damien snarls. "As long as you can help me get rid of those vigilantes. Without them, our path is clear."

"I can do that." Pip says, and my heart stops when his grey eyes flicker towards where I stand. "There's one there."

He points, and I run. I run as fast as my legs can carry me, but staying in such an evil being's presence for so long has exhausted me, and the antichrist is faster than light, and he has caught me in a vice grip before I can even make it to the bottom of the hill.

"Sheana, isn't it?" he hisses. "I know a lot about you."

Then I feel a dull blow hit my temple, and I see black.


	26. Traitor

Chapter 26

 _Gregory_

There is an awful, dreadful feeling at the pit of my stomach. I should have swapped roles with Sheana an hour ago, and she has not returned. My mind plays through a number of nightmare scenarios, all ending in her death. I have convinced myself that either the antichrist has got her, or the demon he or Pip are controlling has.

"I'm scared." I admit to Christophe.

My finger twitches as the smell of nicotine reaches my nose. I am tempted to steal one from my friend just to ease my stress. Me, who complains constantly about his habit.

"She's fine." he soothes, but his voice is shaking and his eyes are wide.

"I don't know..." I say.

"There's nothing we can do." Christophe insists. "We don't know where in South Park she could be to go and find her."

I am about to argue, but my phone buzzing in my pocket cuts me off. I pull it out and my heart leaps hopefully when Sheana's caller id flashes on the screen.

"Sheana, are you okay?" I almost shout down the phone without meaning to.

"She is, for now." A deep voice responds, and shivers run down my back. I quickly press for it to go onto loudspeaker so Christophe can hear. "She's still asleep."

"Don't hurt her." I hear myself say.

"I'm going to give you a chance to save her." the voice says. "Meet us at the high school at midnight. You and the other one come alone. If you bring anyone else, the cops, Kenny, Kyle... I will cut her pretty little throat."

He pauses to let the information sink in.

"If you come before you're supposed to, I will break her fucking neck. Do as you are told, and she has a chance of surviving. If not, then she will die by my hand. Act wisely, Gregory."

And then the dial tone rings out. Christophe is trembling as much as I am, and his eyes are as wide as mine must be.

"We need to listen to him." I say desperately.

I've only just won Sheana over for real, and I'm not going to lose her now. Not to the antichrist, not to anyone.

"It's a trap." Christophe says. "I know its hard, but some sacrifices have to be made."

"What?" I demand. "How the fuck can you be as cold. One of our friends is going to die!"

"People die everyday." Christophe says. "And us dying with her won't change that. You've only known her for a month, and we survived before we met her. We survived better."

I shake my head, disgusted.

"You can't mean that Christophe." I say. "And if you do... If you won't help her... Well, it looks like I'll have to do it alone."

"It'll be suicide." he warns.

I know he is right, but I don't care. Yes, we managed fine without her, maybe we were a better team, more efficient, before we met her but now... Now I can't even stand the thought of living in a world without her. I have to at least try to save her.

"I am a self-sufficient man, Gregory." he argues, and I can't believe what I'm hearing. "If you want to get yourself killed for her then be my guest. I'm not though. Its her own fault for getting caught."

"She is one of your closest friends." I say, hoping that this is all just some sick joke.

He shakes his head.

"Looks like she was." he shrugs. "I'm sorry, but she is not worth my life. She shouldn't be worth yours either."

"She is." I growl, fighting the urge to hit him. "And you can't stop me from going for her."

"I'm not going to try."

 **Christophe is a dick. It's just his personality.**

 **I'm going on a short trip tomorrow and won't be back until Thursday, and I won't have any access to internet so the next chapter won't be posted until then. Sorry guys.**


	27. The Anti-Christ

Chapter 27

 _Shaena_

I can tell with a glance into those crimson eyes that he is truly deranged. Whether or not he is what he claims to be is irrelevant, because I am in a room with a real monster. And I am defenceless. It's my own fault really. I should have drew my gun the moment I saw him. I should have backed a bit away and called Gregory and Christophe for back up. But I was a fool and I didn't, and now I am going to pay for it. The room is dark, but I can still tell that it is a classroom. I am on a hard chair behind a desk, my arms bound tightly behind my back. He has not said a word since I awoke, and Pip is nowhere to be seen. Damien has just stood in the corner, regarding me with dangerous eyes and a smirk.

"Why are we here?" I demand, deciding to break the silence.

I try to sound brave, threatening even, but it falls apart with a tremble of my voice.

"This is where it all began." he says. "I came here first as a freshman, about a year before your little vigilante friends came to the town. Your other friends were cruel, and I left to plot my revenge. It's fitting that it ends here."

"Why?"

"Enough talking." he snarls, then he clicks his fingers.

Then the spiders are everywhere. They crawl up my legs, onto my arms and it tickles in the most chilling of ways. It takes all of my self control not to scream out loud when they reach my neck and start climbing onto my face. When one covers my eye, its leg digging in hurting hurting hurting, I can't help but to scream out. And a fuzzy leg enters my mouth. And I want to vomit but I can't. And then they all disappear. Then he is laughing. His red eyes gleaming out from the shadows. He steps forward and I see black hair, black clothes... An inverted cross hangs from his neck. A red glow surrounds him, and with a wave of his hand an apparition is rising from the ground. Silver, transparent... a ghost. Blonde hair, blue eyes, bloodied face. He was the one that I hit too hard. I am face to face with the first boy I had ever killed. An innocent, really, killed because we were young and stupid.

"Why did you kill me." he whispers. "Why... Why... WHY?!"

I jump back in the chair I am tied to when he shouts. More ghosts are coming up from the floor, all people I have killed during my missions, and they are chanting "Why, why, why." and now I am crying and I am begging and I am chanting "Sorry, sorry, sorry." and then they are fading away and the room is dark once more.

Perhaps Damien is an antichrist, for who less than a God would know of all my terrible secrets and my closeted fears. He turns the lights on and I am blinded by the bright florescent light, and then the room comes into focus again.

"What do you want with me?" I sob, abandoning all the false bravery from before.

It doesn't matter any more, for I know I am going to die here.

"Because you got in my way." he shrugs.

He walks forward until he is right in front of me, then bends so we are face to face. He fixes me with a lopsided smile, and he would be handsome in some twisted way if I didn't know what he was.

"Why are you killing _them_." I whisper.

I want to at least know the reasons for my death before it comes.

"I faced so many injustices here, Sheana." he says. "I have much more reason to kill than you ever will. They mocked my heritage, they called me a freak, they left so many bruises, so many scars both inside and out. They deserve it."

"Who?" I ask, because I cannot see adults acting in such a way.

"Their children mostly. But it hurts more to lose the family first. Butters never really hurt me, he has never hurt anyone. He is too good for this world, I'd like to think. But that's why his father went first. He was a cruel man, abusive to his wife and child, and a friend to no one. You are a vigilante. You realise that he deserved to die."

I am forced to nod. I have killed an abusive parent before, and I would do it again.

"But really he was just a test to see what Pip and I could get away with. mr Mackey I killed because he was a failure. He failed to protect me when I was being abused by my peers. He failed to protect Pip. I couldn't let him live. Karen, I must say, I was sad to see go. She was much like Butters in a sense, but you know anyway from your spying that she was an unfortunate accident. Perhaps if Kenny had been more like his sister, it could have been avoided. But he was a disgusting little bully, and I had to destroy him."

"You can't kill him." I say.

"I know." he shrugs. "I know a lot of things, Sheana. But I can destroy him, and that is far more efficient."

"But Token?" I ask. "Surely he couldn't be capable of such things."

Kenny, I could believe, was capable of bullying, but the way Token acts towards everyone makes it unbelievable.

"He was the worst." Damien spits, his eyes narrowing. "He was the leader. But I can forgive your ignorance, because you don't even know them."

"A-are you going to kill me?" I ask, because I am no longer sure of his intent.

"Unfortunately, I must." he says with a sad little smile. "You could have saved yourself from this, if you would only have stopped yourself from being so nosey."

"Never." I whisper with tears in my eyes, and then I try to accept my fate. "Kill me then."

He throws his head back in a laugh and then he looks back at me.

"In due time my dear." he says, stroking my cheek affectionately.

It is the last offence I can take, and I spit on him. I barely see his hand move until my head snaps to the side and burns with the slap he hit me with.

"I need to wait for Gregory and Christophe to come save you." he says, acting like nothing had happened. "I need to get rid of their meddling too."

"They won't be stupid enough to come." I say, and I hope that I am right.

"But Gregory _loves_ you." Damien mocks. "We could have just stayed here and talked until I had to kill you, but you had to go and spit on me."

So now he acknowledges it.

"So what will we do?" I ask, trying to sound challenging.

"I'm going to have a bit of fun." he smirks. "You... not so much."

And then he raises his fist.


	28. Breaking Point

Chapter 28

 _Gregory_

I sit in the car outside the school and watch as the minutes tick by until midnight. It is eerily silent, and I am lonely without Christophe. I have never embarked on a mission without him, but I need to complete this one, even if I am alone. I can't let Sheana die, no matter what Christophe says. The clock strikes midnight, and I take a deep breath. I pull my pistol from the dashboard and pocket it, just in case, and then I leave the car. I walk towards the building, all too aware of the loudness of the gravel beneath my shoes. Pip meets me at the door, a smirk playing on his lips. The expression doesn't suit him. I put my hand in my pocket to feel the soothing touch of my gun, and then look at him.

"Step aside and you won't get hurt." I warn.

He laughs.

"I don't want to stop you." He says. "I just thought I'd point you in the right direction."

My logic tells me that he is lying, but I have no choice but to trust him for now. Maybe the friendship we had long ago can give me some chance of salvation.

"Where's Christophe?" He asks.

"That's none of your concern." I growl, my anger rising once more because my comrade does not stand beside me.

"Well it is." he says. "We don't want him swooping from nowhere in an attempt to save you."

"He won't." I assure him, and his smile widens at the bitterness in my voice.

"Then follow me, please." he says, and then he turns around and opens the door.

I follow her inside and fight the urge to put a bullet into the back of his head. The bang from the gun would surely catch Damien' attention and ruin any chance of our escape, and Pip was right anyway, I did need him. I couldn't waste time searching the whole school for where Sheana was kept, Damien might become impatient and kill her anyway.

"Why are we in the school?" I demand.

"You can ask Damien when you see him." Pip shrugs, and then begins to lead me up a set of stairs.

I realise all at once that I have entered a dark and abandoned building with the enemy, and put myself at the mercy of a lunatic, and fear begins to creep up on me but I fight it with thoughts of Sheana. If I can save her, then any punishment will be worth it. If not... I suppose I'd rather be dead.

"And why are _you_ working with him?" I ask, not expecting an answer.

"For all the same reasons you are here risking your life." he shrugs.

Does he mean that he loves him? It would make sense for him to risk so much for him if that is the case, but how can someone like _him_ love someone like _him_? I suppose it's possible to say that about me and Sheana though. In the end, we are both worlds apart too.

We walk down a corridor and another set of stairs in silence then we stop half way down the second corridor outside of a classroom, then he comes to a stop.

"Your damsel in distress is just behind this door." Pip mocks. "Why don't you go save her, _Prince Charming_?"

I make the decision in that instant that I will fight my way through this. I manage to catch Pip by surprise with a push. His cry is cut short when his head hits the wall and he falls unconscious. It's still enough noise to draw attention though, so I quickly draw my gun, flick off the safety, and burst through the door. My finger is on the trigger but still he is quicker. Within seconds my weapon is pulled out of my hands and I am thrown across the room. I smack against a table then flip down onto the floor. I am rendered immobile through the pain. I look up with watery eyes and look past Damien, who stands smirking but his eyes show fury, and towards Sheana. She is tied to a chair, unconscious. Her face is bruised and bloody, and she looks so fragile in her beaten state. A burst of adrenaline rushes through my blood as my anger rises once more and it gives me the energy to stand back up. I have killed without a weapon before, and I can surely do it again. I run towards him, but find myself back on the ground before I can blink with his hand around my throat. He isn't applying any pressure, but I know that one wrong move could break my neck or crush my airways. I stay still, hoping that I can find a way out of this situation soon. In the meantime, I should distract him.

"You said no harm would come to her." I say. "You said you wouldn't hurt her if I showed up."

"I know." He whispers, leaning in closer. "But I lied."

"So you won't let her go?" I ask.

"I may have considered it." He growls. "But I assume you didn't give the same luxury to Pip."

"He is alive. I only knocked him out."

"Well I can say the same about your girl." He argues.

"You hurt her first."

"You didn't know that."

And I can't argue anything else.

"Where is the other one?" He asks when he realises that I won't speak again.

"Christophe isn't as stupid as me." I say.

I hate to admit it, but maybe he was right. It was suicide to run into here, especially without a solid plan, but I was left with no choice.

"Pity." He smirks. "Perhaps he'll be stupid enough for Kyle, though I do hate to drag innocents into this mess."

How does he know that? As far as I know, I and, possibly, Sheana are the only people that he has shared this information with.

"How..?" I trail off.

"I'm omniscient." Damien smirks. "I know everything. I'm practically a God."

Then he begins to tighten his grip on my throat. White lights blink on the corners of my blurred vision then it all begins to darken. I can only fight it for a minute, and then I let myself succumb to the darkness.


	29. Kyle

Chapter 29

 _Christophe_

Was I a fool to let Gregory face Damien alone? Was it selfish of me to put my own well-being before that of my best friends? Of course it was. I knew the moment Gregory left how big of a mistake I had made, but still it is taking until now to realise that I have to do something about it. The call did say that if I took anyone with me, Sheana would die, and now I suppose it would mean Gregory would too, but I don't trust Damien. I can bet anything that he will kill both of them anyway. There's nothing left to lose by calling together an army now. Gregory would have done the same, if he wasn't stupid in love. I dial Kyle's number, and then bring my phone up to my ear.

"Gather as many people as you can." I say. "Those that fought in the Forgotten War, if you can. I know who is behind these killings, and I know where they are."

"Right." He answers simply, and then I hear the dial tone.

I stand listening to it for a moment, before shutting down my phone. I should really tell Kyle how I feel when I see him. Even if he is completely straight, or even if it makes him hate me, or even if he thinks I'm joking, I need to tell him. Chances are that someone is going to die before the dawn breaks, and there is no guarantee that it won't be either of us. I'd hate myself if he were to die without knowing how much he means to me, and if I were to die... Well, I want to go with no unfinished business to attend to. Purgatory sounds like such a pain, I'd rather just go straight to Hell.

The "army" that Kyle has managed to pull together is rather impressive, considering that it is South Park, past midnight, and he has done it within the space of an hour. Most of the fighters in the Forgotten War are here, along with a few others. Kenny, Butters and Token, of course, here, and probably want revenge. Wendy and her friends have also joined us, probably on the basis of some loyal creed. The boy from the coffee shop, Tweek, is here and I worry about his twitch until Kyle tells me that he is scarily good at fighting despite his problems. He is joined by his best friend Craig, a stoic and strong stereotype. There are a handful of people I have never met, although Kyle assures me that they can be trusted and they are excellent fighters.

"Can I talk to you?" I ask him, and then pull him over to an empty corner without waiting on a reply.

"Look Chris, I know this isn't the best we can do but-"

I hold a hand up to silence him, and it works.

"It's not that." I say. "I wanted to tell you something..."

"What is it?" He asks, his eyes shining with concern.

He bites his lip and it is the cutest thing I have ever seen.

"I need to say this just in case we... In case we die." I continue.

"You can tell me anything." He says, and I believe him.

"I... I like you."

"Well we are friends." He smirks, and I'm not sure if he is serious in his ignorance, or if he just wanted to hear me say it properly.

I'd bet on the latter, knowing him.

"I mean I really like you." I correct myself. "You're... You're smart and cool and stuff..."

I begin to blush and curse myself. Why am I acting like a love-struck school girl? I've never felt like this before. Am I really so flustered over this guy?

" _étonnamment beau_." I add as a wary afterthought

His eyes widen, but it looks more like shock than disgust.

"And... And I think maybe I love you." I finish quickly, and then turn away so I don't need to watch his reaction.

There is silence for a tense few seconds that seem like a few _years_ then he cups my face with a warm hand and guides my head so that I am forced to look at him. He is smiling, and I see it as a good sign. He's not disgusted with me at least.

"I'm honestly surprised." He says. "I honestly didn't think you'd like someone like me... And I didn't know you were gay."

"It must be a lot to take in." I agree.

"But I think I feel the same." He grins. "So now you'd better stay alive."

He leans up and presses his lips against my cheek, then turns and walks back towards the others.

"Okay you guys." He starts what I assume to be a motivational speech of some sort.

I barely hear it. My cheek is tingling where he kissed and my head is buzzing with a mixture of shock and excitement. I feel like I can take on the world right now. I feel like I could take on anything, knock even Lucifer to his knees, which is a good job considering we're about to try something very similar. I rejoin the group, and listen as Kyle continues his speech. I don't know if an army is necessary for this mission, but we're better being safe. Damien, I assume, is a strong man alone, and who knows how many demons he can summon.

"Remember; fire kills demons, bullets kill humans and... Well, we'll have to figure out what kills Damien." Kyle says. "We must stand together, fight united, and we have a good chance of winning this fight. I won't stand and lie to you, I will be honest. There is a chance you will get hurt; there is a chance that you will die..."

"So if anyone wants to leave, now's the time to go." I finish, and he flashes me a grateful smile.

"Yeah." He nods, then continues when no one stirs. "Then, let's go!"

 **Only about four more chapters to go, guys :D**


	30. Confess to the Ultimate Sinner

Chapter 30

 _Sheana_

Gregory is tied to the chair beside me when I awake once more. My body aches and my mind is almost burnt out, but I can take comfort in the steady rise and fall of his chest, knowing that Gregory is still alive despite everything. My throat burns from my screaming earlier, and my voice is cracked but I can still call out his name. I don't know where Damien and Pip are. The door is closed and the lights are off. _Where is Christophe?_

"Gregory." I choke out, a little bit louder than before, and then finally he begins to stir.

His blue eyes snap open and take a moment to refocus.

"Sheana." He whispers back.

"I'm here." I soothe. "Where's Christophe?"

Anger fills his eyes and my heart fills with dread.

"He has betrayed us." He growls. "He would rather save his own skin than help us."

"That's smart of him." I reason, although I can't help but to agree with the feeling of betrayal. "Look at the position you are in."

"It never would have happened if he had come with me!"

I can't reply, for a second later the door creaks open and I am too afraid to speak. Light spills into the room for a moment, then it is obscured by a shadow as Damien steps through the door.

"Nice to see that you are both awake." He smirks, walking forward. "Pip has recovered from your little attack; I thought you'd like to know."

Gregory clenches his teeth and I know he is biting back an insult, still clinging to the hope that co-operation could give us a chance to survive. My hope is slipping away faster with every second that passes. Damien pulls Gregory's gun from his pocket and runs a long finger down the barrel.

"Nice weapon you've got here." He smirks. "Well, you _had_ here. Maybe I should end your life with this."

"Well why don't you do it." Gregory growls, and it causes Damien to laugh.

"You are all so _eager_." He says. "Maybe I should have just waited until you offed yourselves."

I glare up at him, but don't say a word.

"I don't know if I will kill you with this." Damien muses, tossing the gun from hand to hand.

He's playing a dangerous game. One slip and any one of us can die.

"Or if I'll have Pip summon a demon." He shrugs. "He brings the best ones. An innocent soul corrupted always does."

"I suggest you hurry up and decide before you are stopped." Gregory growls.

"By who? You're precious _Christophe_? He isn't coming." Damien mocks and then suddenly turns towards me. "What do you think Sheana? Which one would be harder to watch."

"Fuck you." I growl, then I spit on the floor.

"Such a lady." He sneers. "If not for Pip I would-"

"Don't you dare!" Gregory warns. "Don't even think about touching her!"

"And what are you going to do?" Damien mocks. "You seem a little bit _tied up_ at the moment."

With lightening speed he brings the gun up to Gregory's head and cocks it. I draw in a deep breath and hold it, praying that he won't be harmed. My prayers are answered when Damien seems to have second thoughts and lowers the gun.

I have a feeling that he is stalling, I just can't think of why.

"That shut you up." He laughs, and then turns back towards me.

My already bruised cheek throbs when he smashes his fist against it. Gregory lurches forward, straining against the ropes, but he doesn't say anything. Damien glances up to the clock then smirks before lifting the gun back up to Gregory's head again.

"Go on." He nods towards me. "Tell her how much you love her before you die."

Gregory glances to me, then fixes his gaze back on Damien.

"I'm serious this time." He says. "You have until the clock strikes three, and then I will put this bullet through your head."

Two minutes.

Gregory keeps staring up at him.

"Or you can choose not to believe me and die without confessing everything to her."

 _Everything?_

"I love you, Sheana." Gregory says, turning to face me. "More than anyone, or anything in the entire world. I wish I could spend the rest of my life with you, and give you everything you could ever want, but it looks like that isn't going to happen now. I just... I love you so much."

His voice cracks and tears spring to his eyes as he breaks off.

"Who do you love her more than, exactly?" Damien smirks and I know he knows more than me on the matter.

He must be able to see all of Gregory's dark secrets and fears too.

"Wendy." He whispers out.

Well, he already told me that.

"And why is that important for her to know?" Damien asks.

"I've been cheating on her." Gregory says, quietly and quickly. "I've been... with both of them."

My heart is breaking, but I can't find it in myself to be angry with him. I still love him, through his mistakes.

"Tell her." Damien demands. "Beg for her forgiveness, so you can go down to Hell with a clear mind."

"I gave my love to another." He says, looking me right in the eyes. "And I am so sorry. Please... Forgive me."

"I do." I whisper.

"Very good." Damien smirks, then he puts his finger on the trigger.

He begins to squeeze, and then the door bangs open.


	31. The Battle

Chapter 31

 _Gregory_

I have never been so glad to see Christophe in all my life until now. He barells through the door quicker than lightening and has Damien on the ground in an instant, raining a series of punches down before he is kicked off. The building comes alive. Growls and shouts echo in from the corridor from Pip's Demons and Christophe's army, Sheana yells for Christophe to win while Kyle sprints up behind me to untie me. The rope falls away, relieving the tension against my wrists, and I immediately join the fray. I tackle Damien from where he looms above Christophe and we both crash to the ground. Christophe wrestles to his feet and joins in the attack while Kyle pulls Sheana out into the corridor while she struggles against him. She'll be back soon enough, I'm sure. I doubt anyone can keep her out of the fun for long. Sure enough I hear Kyle's small grunt of pain and Sheana's scream as she launches herself into the battle outside. With a burst of energy which must be some kind of magic, Damien throws both me and Christophe away from him and bounces to his feet. I lift my gun from the floor where Damien dropped it when Christophe first attacked then take up the chase. We follow him out into the corridor and, if not for the adrenaline coursing through my veins, I would have felt sick at the sight. Blood is smeared across the walls and there are several mangled bodies on the ground. Almost everyone is injured in some way from minor bruises to burns to cuts. I take it in as we run down the corridor in pursuit of the demon's leader. Butters has a scar across his right eye, and I fear it could be missing, and blood runs down his face. Kenny's clothes are torn and ragged, he is covered in blood and his face is littered with bruises, cuts and minor burns. He takes on three demons at once. I fire a few shots towards them and hear shrieks but I can't tell if I have dealt any lethal blows. The world passes me in a blur as I sprint up two sets of stairs and out onto the roof. If we can take down Damien and Pip, then we will be able to win this. They are our main focus.

Both of them are on the roof. Pip is on his knees behind a large symbol, the symbol that was at all of the crime scenes. His eyes are white and vacant, and his mouth moves quickly as he hurries out a spell in some ancient language. It sounds like Latin, but I can't be sure with the speed he is talking. I remember him as my friend all those years ago. He was such a good person back then. He was bullied, I know, but he took it with grace and a smile. Maybe he took too much abuse and cracked. Or maybe he was still being bullied and it was Damien that was doing it. Or, remembering the words Damien spoke before this battle started, he thought he loved him. But I still can't understand how he, a boy with a heart of gold, would possibly fall in love with some corrupted lunatic who thought he was the anti-christ. It makes no sense. I don't want to hurt Pip. I think he's still good at heart, and I don't want to hurt him, but I have to. If he summons any more demons then we won't stand a chance. Our casualties are already higher than we anticipated. Christophe ignores Pip for some reason, and is instead arguing with Damien, but I can't understand a word they say. My head is fuzzy, because I know what I have to do. And I can't stand the thought of doing it. I take a deep breath, aim my gun, squeeze my eyes shut then pull the trigger.

He lets out a shriek.

Then there is silence.

I open my eyes. Blood stains his shirt, and he lies on his side. His eyes have reverted back to their usual blue, but they are still vacant. His chest doesn't move.

Damien's yell of anguish reminds me far too much of the cry Kenny let out after losing his sister, and fleetingly I wonder if I can still be considered the hero of this case after firing a bullet towards a once innocent boy, but I shake it off. He was summoning demons. He's not innocent now.

With tears and desperation in his eyes, Damien kneels by his side, ignoring me and ignoring Christophe. He is just focusing on him. He begins to whisper into his ear, in the same language that he was speaking before, and a feeling of dread begins to spread across my chest. Christophe reaches for his gun and points it to Damien' head, and it makes me feel a little bit better to know we are protected. I lift my own gun to join his, just in case, but I am wary to pull the trigger in case I kill another for little reason. I feel bad enough about today's first kill. Pip did used to be a close friend of mine. And I killed him. Damien finishes his chant then looks up at us. His eyes are not the same. They have faded and darkened into a deep black. Pip's wound closes, and he lets out a deep breath.

Christophe moves to press the trigger but stops when Damien begins to speak.

"Stop." he says, but it is no longer a demand. More like a gentle request. "Please. I can't hurt you any more."

 _What?_


	32. The End?

Chapter 32

 _Christophe_

"What the fuck are you talking about?" I demand.

I keep my finger on the trigger but don't pull it. We are supposed to be playing hero here, it will do no good to injure a harmless person, even if they have done wrong. I'd rather they go to prison than us.

"My powers have been drained." he says.

Gregory raises an eyebrow and gives me the side eye.

 _I know you idiot, I'm going to keep questioning him..._

"Your powers? Aren't they from spells?"

"Pip's were." he nods. "Not mine. I am a son of Satan, mine's are a natural gift."

"You think you are the anti-christ?"

It's maybe not a good idea to be mocking someone who is a known murderer, but when have I ever been wise with these things?

"Not exactly. Just a son." he smirks. "Maybe, if you let me live, I'll explain it properly one day."

"Fine." I shrug, knowing that I won't get anywhere with this conversation. "But why are your powers drained, if it is a natural gift?"

"This murdering spree wasn't _just_ for my own revenge, although that was a huge motive for me, but it was to start the apocalypse. I would start it, my brother the true anti-christ would finish it, but the problem is I need to take kills to power myself, confusing shit, again it might be explained at some point if you let me live and if you care that much. Anyway, I hadn't took a kill in a while... I had until 3 am to recharge. I failed. I had some power left, a hidden reserve you could say, which could restart my powers, but then I gave Pip life. Do you know how much power it takes to reinstate a life? It takes a whole reserve. I am fucked. I can't stop you from putting a bullet through my head right now... I can only hope your curiosity will save me."

I honestly don't give a fuck about his delusions, but I would never put a bullet in the head of someone who couldn't fight back, if they were not a threat to me. I glance at Gregory and he shrugs. Leaving me to make the decision? Its not like him.

"You can live." I say after some deliberation. "But you'll be going to jail for a long time, with eight counts of murder under your belt."

Damien smirks at me, grabs Pip's hand, then disappears in a cloud of black smoke.

"Motherfucker!"

The demons disappeared when Gregory shot Pip, it appears. I never actually thought my partner had it in him to kill an old friend, even if he was brought back by some screwed up cheat move from his demon boyfriend. Sheana and Kyle meet us at the bottom of the stairs. I catch Kyle in a hug at the bottom of the stairs and feel like I should be tipping him back and snogging the hell out of him, but I decide against it. We are not a cliche, and I only explained my feelings to him tonight. Sheana gives Gregory a quick peck on the cheek and then they stand awkwardly side by side. That's a surprise. I expected them to be the cliche, end-of-the movie lovers. Somethings up, but I'll quiz them on that later.

"The bastards got away. We'll find them later." I tell Kyle, and I know Sheana is listening in. "Any casualties... deaths?"

"Butters injured his eye. We think he might lose it. Token's took him off to the hospital." he shrugs his shoulders and looks up to me with tearful emerald eyes. "The rest are really just cuts and minor burns... Kenny broke his arm but he refused to go to the hospital until it was over..."

"Deaths?" I ask again.

I hate to push but his eyes wouldn't be bloodshot and his bottom lip wouldn't be trembling if the biggest tragedy of the night was a lost eye.

"A few." he says after a long pause. "No one you know though... A few of my friends, but I guess I can get over it."

"You're strong." I agree. "But still, I'm sorry."

He manages a weak smile.

"I know." he says. "But you tried your best to save us all... You're the hero of the day."

"I had a lot of help." I blush, and I begin to fear that we are going to turn into a cliche.

"All the best heroes do." he says.

I feel myself leaning forward, and I have the intent of kissing him, but then he turns away and I have lost my chance.

"Right Kenny, everyone is fine!" he says, moving towards his friend. "Now come on, you're going to the hospital."

Gregory and Sheana come up beside me and we watch them leave. Even with Kyle's words ringing in my ears, I don't know if we can call this mission a success.


	33. Not a Chance!

Epilogue

 _Gregory_

I'm not quite sure what the future holds for us now, but I know we can't go back to England. Not yet. Not while Damien is still out there, possibly planning his next move. He had held onto his grudge against the town for years, and I highly doubt one defeat would deter him from trying again. Christophe has already suggested we stay here, and Sheana looks keen on the idea. We have been playing with the idea of forming our own Guild in South Park. Kyle has told us about the Superhero group he and the rest of the guys used to have down here, and that can be revived easily now that we are smarter, stronger and more experienced.

"La resistance lives on." Christophe sings gently as he stands beside me on his mothers porch.

He sparks up a cigarette, and the smoke spirals upwards. I watch it with a mild curiosity, then turn to my closest friend.

"If we've to go with this plan, we should probably contact the Guild Master." I say. "I'm sure he'll help us set up."

"We're on our gap year." the frenchman shrugs, not bothering to glance in my direction. "He doesn't need to get involved."

I nod. "It was just an idea."

"I know."

We fall into a comfortable silence for some long minutes. I briefly wonder where Sheana is. She could be in the shower, or perhaps trying to sleep. None of us have had much sleep in the past few days. A battle tends to do that to you.

"What's going on between you and Sheana?" Christophe asks, and I wonder once more if he has gained the ability to read minds.

Between him and Sheana, there is no longer any hiding who I am.

"What do you mean?" I ask, though I know quite well what he is suggesting.

"One minute you're the cliché idea of lovers." he shrugs. "then the next she can barely look at you. I'd bet my Mercedes that its something to do with Wendy."

I sigh and take a couple of steps forward, out of his arms reach.

"I slept with Wendy when I was dating Sheana." I admit, my voice barely audible. "More than once."

He looks at me silently, his face contorting into something similar to rage, then he puts on a mask of cool indifference. I'm glad. I expected him to reach for his shovel.

"You don't deserve her back." he almost spits. "But you'd better do something to make it up to her soon. I have enough to worry about without you two walking on eggshells round each other."

I nod.

"I know."

I look out across the street, and watch the children playing. They have no idea what monster stalks their streets, what demons can rip them from their beds. I will make it my mission to ensure that it stays that way.

 **So what do ya think? Sequel?**


	34. Sequel

The sequel to Revenge of the Anti-Christ has now been released and can be found on my page.


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